Wrong Side of the Law
by desist
Summary: Ace is a well known criminal but no one seems to be able to even get a glimpse of his face. Smoker is a cop who is responsible for catching him. Two persons on each side of the law. Will the stubborn cop realize that love isn't always legal? SmoAce, AU
1. Come on, can you do it?

**Hello, all new readers! This is a piece of work connected with my other fic "To be that someone that you're with". In some sort, you could call this a ****prologue.**

**In this fic, Smoker and Ace are the main characters, and this is the story how they got ****together. This can be read without reading Someone, after reading Someone, or before. **

**Do as you like!**

**In Someone, they are already ****together, so I thought I would give the poor fellas a proper story, and here it is.**

**Ladies**** and gents, I give you:**

** "_The wrong side of the law_"**

_Chapter 1 __– Come on, can you do it?_

Ace Portgas heard the sirens coming closer and closer. He sighed, filling his pockets with anything that looked valuable. He had already put all the money from the safe in his precious, orange hat. He made sure the knot held tight around his chin; it would be a disaster if it came undone during his escape. He would not only lose all the money from tonight along with his hat, but he would also be leaving behind evidence, which was something he preferred not to do. He slapped his pockets and heard them jingle. He grinned and opened his small backpack to pick up his finishing tools: a small bottle of oil and a pack of matches, nothing that couldn't be bought at the local corner store. Time to get out of here.

Smoker wasn't known for being a patient person; no one could say that, especially his co-workers. He pressed down on the gas pedal in the black car and honked even if he was just a little irritated at somebody outside the car. Melinda Tashigi and a fairly new recruit, Paulie Williams, sat and looked tiredly at their superior in command for this mission. Smoker had been assigned to catch the youngster known as 'the Dawn Pyro'. He robbed houses and small shops just before dawn struck, and he always escaped the same way: lighting a small fire and running like hell, over gardens, small alleys and even over rooftops.

Police chief Garp had given Smoker the mission to capture the culprit, but he had no idea where to start. Nobody had ever seen him, he always picked empty houses. Just once had he made the mistake of getting captured on a camera, but they only saw his back the few seconds he was visible in the film. The only clue they had was that it was a young male in his twenties, and that was about it. He had been wearing a big, orange cowboy-ish hat over his head so they didn't even know what hair colour he had.

Smoker pressed the horn forcefully again.

"Fucker! Can't he see that we have fucking sirens going?" He honked again, and hit the steering wheel.

"Oh, Jesus." he said and pressed the gas pedal until it hit the floor. He turned the wheel and went around the car ahead of them in a less than legal way.

He had a headache, and it was that brat's fault. If he could just get his hands on him, he would tear his head off! Paulie looked nervously at his boss, but Melinda just shrugged her shoulders. She was used to how Smoker acted, not that she approved of it.

Ace looked down from the tree he had hidden himself in. Under him, in a little pool on the asphalt, was his dose of oil. He saw the black police car coming up the street, and lit one of the matches. It was a slow burning brand, one that would resist a bit of wind. The perfect kind for him. He grinned like the Cheshire cat.

"Just a bit closer", he enticed the car. When the car was about ten meters from the pool of oil, he dropped the burning match, setting parts of the street on fire.

"Whoopsey", he said and watched the car to see what was going to happen.

The car stopped dead, and a tall man with broad shoulders stepped out from the driver's seat. He looked around, and Ace could really see how angry he was.

"Oh, the macho cop everybody is scared of, right? That must be him." Ace backed away slowly so he wouldn't make any noise. The macho cop had yet to find Ace's position, and it would spoil the fun to rush this game. He picked up a rope from his backpack and tied it to one of the thicker branches, ready to go all "Indiana Jones" on them.

"Hey, Smokey!" He shouted. He bet that Smoker looked up at the tree, but if Ace couldn't see him, Smoker should also be unable to see Ace.

"You think you can catch me, right? I mean, are you sure? Come on, can you do it?"

Before Smoker could even reach the bottom of the tree, Ace swung with help of the rope onto the roof of the garage. The sun was just about to slowly rise above the horizon in front of Ace, so when Smoker looked up at his now to be-arch rival, he only saw a silhouette of a man, standing with his legs broad apart, hands on hips and a hat on his head. His voice had been cocky and daring, and Smoker was more pissed of than usual, so he kicked in the gate to the garden that belonged to the robbed house, and ran after the criminal youngster.

Ace smiled, ran to the end of the garage roof and jumped down, landing with bent knees and a hand on the ground, ready to start running any second. He heard and saw Smoker coming around the corner of the garage building, marking the start of his chase. He began running, and when he came to the end of the garden, he swung over the fence with one hand. Smoker was delayed by the fence, but not for more than a couple of seconds.

Ace might have been more flexible, but Smoker was faster, like a rhino barging through the gardens. It was lucky for Ace, or it might have been skill, that he had picked this route, with lots of turns and obstacles in the way of the bigger man. On a straight track, Ace would have lost the race.

They kept on running for almost ten minutes, the sun rising more and more. Smoker was never more than ten meters away from Ace, so this time, he had seen more of the boy than anybody else ever had. Smoker wondered why the boy had so obviously started this chase. In all other cases involving the Dawn Pyro, he never stayed after he had started the fire. Was he just mocking Smoker? Also, how did this kid know his name?

Ace grinned. This was exactly how he imagined it would be. He enjoyed the thrill of the chase, but he realized that he soon had to put an end to it. He couldn't keep this speed up all day. He looked up over the tree tops and suddenly turned left. Smoker was so surprised he almost kept going straight ahead.

"Fucking kid!" Smoker didn't know how many times he had checked the gun holster on his hips just to find it empty. Why the fuck was it empty? And this far in the chase he couldn't borrow one of his subordinate's guns, they were several gardens away from them by now. Neither of them had followed him.

Ace saw the end of the gardens, and the beginning of the industrial area. Perfect, he was heading the right way. He jumped over the last fence, followed a few seconds later by the bigger man.

"S-stop, you fucking shit.", Smoker panted. He was also getting a bit breathless, despite the great physique that was needed on the field as a police.

"As if, Smokey. That would be boring." Ace laughed. Smoker frowned, and concentrated on trying to outrun the bastard.

Ace looked around and found what he was looking for, a chain-link fence. Yet another grin covered his face, and he took a leap up, and climbed over. Smoker reached the fence just half a second to late and tried to jump up to catch Ace's leg, but grabbed the thin air. He looked up at the fence, but he had to admit defeat. He would never get over that before Ace got away.

Ace also knew this, as he had stopped about half a meter from the fence, back facing Smoker. A short laugh mixed with panting erupted from the youngster.

"You almost had me there, Smokey. That wouldn't have been any fun, would it?"

"You son of a bitch!" Smoker yelled and his fist hit the fence with a rattling sound.

"Pff, it's not my mother you're pissed at right? It's _me_, a young brat. You'll never catch me, Smokey."

"How do you know my name?"

"Oh, you're able to say something that doesn't involve swearing? Cool."

"That doesn't answer my question, brat." Smoker tried to calm himself down, but it was hard when the young man kept that attitude.

"You tell me, you're the cop." he said and shrugged his shoulders. After a moment of hesitation, he added: "I'll give you one clue though."

He scratched his neck, and tugged a bit on his orange hat, the same one that he was wearing when he got caught on video tape. Hesitating, as though he were reasoning with himself, he turned his head to the side, but eventually he turned towards Smoker, leaning forward a bit, just out of reach.

Smoker looked at him with a frown. The kid looked to damn happy for his own good, with curly black hair, freckles all over the face and that god damned smile he would soon learn to detest.

"Smokey, I know what's going around at the police station, at least parts of it, and I know that I'm not the biggest problem in town."

Smoker bit his lip. He couldn't mean? Shit, all that information was top secret.

"Yep, I told you, I know stuff. I know about the Croc, probably more than you do. And you know how humanity works. We always want to be on the top, and I don't like being second. I could help you."

"Why would you? And why would I accept help from a fucker like you."

"Smokey, Smokey. You need to chill down a bit, relax. Hate a bit less. I want to be on top, and that goes without explanation. And as I happen to know Old Man Garp gave you the assignment of catching me, you'll need something else to impress on him, since I promise you, you'll never be able to."

"I'll show you, brat! I'll show you!"

"Oh well, I don't really have anything else to say, so I'll take my leave before your colleges come with their guns. Bad situation for me, you see. Give the idea some thought, I'll find you one day, and we can have a talk."

He checked the knot around his chin, and drew a hand along the edge of the hat in a way he had stolen from old western movies.

"One last thing, Smokey. Relax a bit, and don't hate the world. Let love be your energy."

The brat started running and, when he disappeared around the corner, Smoker knew that the chase was over, at least for now. He was boiling with anger, and it didn't help when Tashigi and Williams showed up only a couple of minutes later, with his gun. Apparently, he had dropped it when he kicked down the gate in the first garden.

"You're fucking kidding me." Smoker mumbled and kicked the fence fiercely, but without budging it. Stuff was made way too durable nowadays.

Ace took it easier when he was sure he wasn't being followed any more. His face was still covered in a smile, and he took small leaps of excitement. This was going to be so much fun, driving Smokey to madness.

He strolled around on the streets downtown; having left the industrial area behind him a long time ago. The sun had started to rise just before Smoker started the chase, so now it was up a bit in the sky, but no one was to be seen on the streets except Ace. It was his private time, the dawn.

Smoker had dark bags under his grey eyes, and nobody tried to talk to him, or ask how it went when he got back to the police station. It was too obvious from his pissed attitude. As confirmation, Tashigi shook her head. Paulie walked a bit behind his two elders, not quite sure what he was supposed to.

"I'll be at my office, and damn the person who tries to disturb me. Tell chief Garp it went to hell, but I am working on it. I saw his face." The last two sentences were an order to a very confused Paulie, who looked with more than a bit of fear at the door that lead into the office of Grand Line's police chief, but he headed there with steps that showed he was more daring than anybody else in the building. Smoker nodded. There might be a future for the kid.

Ace went through the small park, making sure that no one was following him as he closed in on his home. It was a small house, designed for two, or a small family, but he enjoyed the space he got when he lived there alone.

'Ah, home again…'

He grabbed the house keys from his pocket and put them in the lock. He unlocked the door as quietly as he could; he didn't want to blow his cover as a poor student with the neighbours.

Smoker sank down on his chair and drove a hand through his short hair. He had a feeling that this was going to be just as hard as the kid had told him it would be. The fucker was sneaky. He took up a paper with the thought of writing down what he knew about the brat, but he knew it was hopeless. He knew how he smiled, that he was fast, athletic and a mocker, but not much more.

And he knew that the brat knew about 'Crocodile'. What was up with every criminal just having to have their own nickname?

He had picked up the file, stamped 'Top secret' in red letters, from the locked drawer of his file cabinet. In it was all known information about the criminal boss who called himself Crocodile. Not much was about him either, but it was more than that kid.

He had started big from the beginning, about a year ago. They had been lucky enough to get a hold of one of his subordinates just a couple of months ago, but after only a day in the hands of the police, someone assassinated him. It was about then that the police got serious and stated that he was the No. 1 most wanted criminal in Grand Line.

Apparently, the so called Dawn Pyro had a problem with that, since he would go so far as to help his enemy. Damn that kid if he knew what was going on. The victory wouldn't be as sweet if the brat was his way to the glory. At the same time, he knew that Crocodile needed to be caught. Fuck that shitty kid and his mocking smile.

* * *

**Well, as stated, this is the first chapter of my new story "The wrong side of the law". I will release these chapters ****as well as chapters to "To be that someone that you're with". It's two different stories, kind of like "Bilbo" and the "Lord of the Rings", if you get that. **

**Well, this i****s not going to be as long as Someone (I hope), but I will write as long as I have a story in my head. I have the base structured up, but no one knows what will happen in the two is half finished, so we'll see when that is published. I'll try to not make the wait to long  
**

**If you liked it, please check up "To be that someone that you're with". Link is to be found on my profile. **

**And also, and this counts for everyone: please leave a review. Love you all!**


	2. Remember what I told you?

_Chap__er 2 – Remember what I told you?_

Ace went around in the city in his own style: by climbing over the rooftops. Like a cat he jumped from building to building, soaking in his surroundings. If he heard something that interested him, he would stop and listen.

It was in this way that he had heard about Crocodile, just a month or so ago.

_Strolling __across__ a roof, not far from the central station, he had heard someone in an alley below him:_

_"The fucker got himself caught. I can't__help__pitying him__; apparently, it was Smoker who caught him." It was a man's voice, talking to somebody. Ace __was__ interested so he stopped and looked down, careful not to fall over the edge, __lest he __tumble __down to __a sudden death. Down in the alley, a man and a woman stood close and talked about something __that certainly didn't sound legal._

_  
"__He couldn't__ have had an easy time, and now it'll only get worse for him. Sir Crocodile has given orders to kill him as soon as possible. As usual, he is giving a reward to __whoever is willing to do it without hesitation__," the man continued. Ace __couldn't__ see very well from this angle, but the man wore a black coat, sunglasses and an afro, that—if he had to be brutally __honest—__ reminded him more of dried seeweed __than__ hair. The woman wore a small, orange dress with some kind of pattern that Ace __couldn't make out__ from __where he was standing__. When she talked she had a __high-pitched__ voice:_

"_Pff, I never really liked him." Two seconds of thought passed. "Maybe I should bust him?"_

_Ace whistled low and grinned. Anything that could make his everyday life a bit more intresting was always welcome. __He decided to follow the man and the woman down the street, from the roof tops. He jumped between the buildings, stalking the suspicious couple. _

_He yawned a bit, thinking it was way __too__ easy, and wondering a bit where they were going, but after a few sudden turns in the backstreet, Ace found himself __dumbfounded__; he had lost them. He __almost felt like pouting,__ but __decided against it in favour of__ his couch, and a cup of homemade coffee. _

_He__ inhaled what should have been the smell of fresh coffee and nearly gagged__. He really needed to learn how to make coffee __that didn't smell poisonous__. He took a sip and swallowed, forcing the fire down his throat. _

He had once again tried to make the black liquid he insisted on calling coffee, but got the usual, awful tasting result. He really ought to learn how to make it, or get a partner who would do it for him. He laughed at the idea of Smoker standing in his kitchen, swearing over the coffee maker. _That_ would be a sight to behold. He yawned a bit and stretched his arms. The clock above the kitchen counter showed that it was almost time for school.

He swallowed the rest of the coffee with a loud 'Eww...'. Maybe he ought to get a new caffeine fix to keep him awake at all-hours, because this liquid made him want to burn that coffee machine.

He placed his orange hat on the shelf; it was to conspicuous now that the hunt had begun. Instead he placed a baseball cap over his black hair. He also picked up a pair of sunglasses, pilote model, and placed them on his freckled nose. He kept his shorts and t-shirt on, but put on a red, long sleeved shirt on top of the orange t-shirt. Ready to blend in.

Smoker's eyes were bloodshot, and the bags under his eyes helped the dead-to-the-world look on the police officer's face. The case bugged him far more than any other he could remember, and it was all that brat's fault. He must have practiced being that annoying!

He looked down at the paper where he had written down the character traits of the boy, but quickly crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the wastepaper basket. All he _knew_about him was that he was fast, sneaky, annoying, and his appearance through a chain-link fence.

He threw his head back and grunted loudly. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't solve it as it was today. He had to wait for the brat to make his move, and that knowledge was a true pain in the ass.

He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to loose some of the overwelming tiredness, but came to the conclusion that a cup of black coffee would work better. He got up from his worn office chair and went silently out in the coffee room.

Ace strolled down the street, hands in pocket and eyes on the dirty road. As usual, during the begining of summer, the kids from all over the town roamed everywhere and clear tracks made out of candy and ice-cream paper made it easy to see where the little bastards had been.

He kicked an empty Coca-Cola can and it rolled over the sidewalk and hit the shoe of a blonde man with his hair slicked back. To keep it from falling in front of his eyes he had placed a pair of large, orange sunglasses on his forehead. The man looked down at the can and then toward Ace.

The boy wondered for one second if the man had recognized him, but he simply looked through at him with a dull look. Ace smiled a bit, smugly.

"Sorry, sir!", he said and walked past Paulie Williams, still with a small smile on his tanned face. The police really had no idea, and Ace liked it that way. The previous night he had been a bit of a daredevil, so it was best to lay low for a while. He knew that he had promised that he would visit Smoker, but it was he who set the rules for when and where. He continued walking, set to play his role as normal citizen.

Soon the gates of the university came to his sight, and he sighed deeply. The university wasn't his favorite place in town, yet he had to spend several days of the week here. Growing up sure sucked.

Smoker was stressed. That was a fact, and everyday, new matters came in to the police officer and he had to take care of them all in one or another way. But none of these new cases was commited by the brat, he was sure of that. There had been a couple of break-ins, but none of them fit in to the usual model of _his_ doings. Slowly, but surely, the matter of the Dawn Pyro and their talk slipped longer back in Smoker's mind. Of course, he never forgot him, but his mind wasn't set twenty-four seven on the impossible task. Two weeks passed, and he wondered when and if the kid really was going to keep his promise. After yet another week, he doubted it, and he let the matter slip from his mind completely.

That just made his suprise even bigger when one day, he heard a knock on his bedroom window. He was in the middle of reading a criminal report along with a cup of coffee at his kitchen table so he ignored the sound. His bed room was on the fifth floor of an apartment complex, so he thought it was a bird which had accidentally flown into his window, but when the knocking sound appared again, he went into the room and the coffee that he was just about to swallow flew out from his mouth and onto his floor. Waving outside his window was a young, blackhaired man. Smoker had problems comprehending what he saw before his eyes. Five floors up, outside his fucking bedroom window was his sworn enemy.

"You fucker, what the hell!" Smoker shouted and stepped quickly over to the window. It was one of those that could only be opened a few centimetres, and Smoker didn't want to get himself in trouble with his landlord by breaking the window. Ace signalled that he should open the window, and Smoker didn't really have another choice. This was the one moment he had waited for. He needed more information, and this seemed, unfortunately, the only solution.

He opened up the window as far as it would allow without breaking the latch, and looked at the man on the other side of the glass. The man on the outside smiled at him, and greated:

"Good evening, Officer Smoker."

"You, you! How did you get up here?" Ace looked at him like it was obvious, and to be honest, it was the most obvious answer Ace gave the wondering police man.

"I climbed up, stupid."

"It's fucking five floors! You could have fallen and died!" Smoker shouted at him, his voice turned down a bit by the barrier of glass. Ace raised a rather questioning eye brow. He almost let out the laugh building up inside of his stomach.

"You're worried about me? How sweet of you, Smokey." He smiled, placing himself more comfortably on the window sill. He had a firm grip around the drain pipe so he doubted that he would fall of any time soon. Ace enjoyed the following few seconds of the mime play on Smoker's face. It seemed as that comment wasn't supposed to be said out loud. Smoker's face took differet shiftings between light pink cheeks and an angry red that was followed by a growling answer:

"You fucker, If you die, I can't arrest you! It's not like the Wild West where all the criminals are wanted "dead or alive". I have sworn to catch you, and catching does not include raking together the remnants of you from the parking lot!"

Ace smiled even more. This could be a start of something quite interesting.

"I'm not going to ask you to invite me, but I can smell coffee. Do you think that you could get a cup out from this window?" Ace smelled the warm air that streamed out from the window, and it seemed like Smoker was better at making coffee than he.

Smoker stared at him as though he didn't believed what he had just said.

"Why would I show you any kind of hospitality?" He thought it was a fair question as it was a criminal who knocked on his _window_ in the middle of the evening. The last thing that would have come to mind was asking him if he wanted a cup of coffee.

"Aww, show some love, Smoker! Don't you remember what I told you?" Ace heaved an over exaggerated sigh and then continued talking. "Plus, I have some information you would do veeery well to obtain."

Suddenly, Smoker was much more intrested in what the brat said. Last time they met he had mentioned an information trade about Crocodile, and if it was information about him, then Smoker was more than eager to listen.

"Crocodile?" he asked hopefully.

"Coffee?" Ace asked in the same tone, smiling. Smoker looked up at the ceiling in a resignation. He went back to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with a cup of steaming hot coffee. He looked from the cup to the narrow opening of the window glass, and decided that it was possible, so after yet half a minute, Ace sat on the window sill sipping his coffee. Even if it was summer, the evening air was chilly so the hot liquid was apreciated. And, a giant plus in Ace's book was the fact that Smoker actually knew how to make great coffee.

Ace looked around and realized that Smoker was looking at him, waiting. He took another sip of the coffee, and then he started telling Smoker what he had heard in the alley almost two months ago.

Smoker had taken a seat on his bed under the window and sat quietly and listened at the young man's story. When Ace had finished, Smoker looked at him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you serious, brat? You know what they look like, you almost followed them to their base... Why didn't you say anything to the police!"

Smoker lost himself for a moment, realizing the mistake in his question.

"I have one or two small problems with simply walking into the police office." Ace laughed, drinking more coffee. Half of the cup was emptied.

"I have been busy lately", he continued. "and I don't think that I ought to tell you with what. But the following time, I think I'll come back from my spring break." He grinned as Smoker slowly came to understand what the underlaying meaning to his words was. The cop slammed his fist on the window, but Ace didn't flinch. He just sat there and took the last gulps of the coffee.

"Who do you think you are?" Smoker had taken it calmly during the information, but now Ace admitted strait to his face that he was about to start breaking into houses again, and that the cop couldn't do shit about it.

"There are many different things going on here", Ace said with a calm tune. "I am about to start a few things and end a couple of them as well. I am going to survive this, but my not-so-dear friend Croc is not so lucky." He turned and faced Smoker, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're not too excited about helping me, but there is nothing you can do about it."

That Cheshire cat grin was back on his face, and Smoker slammed his fist on the window once again. Ace raised his coffee cup as in a toast and drank the last of the liquid. He placed the cup on the window sill and made a salute in spite of the officer yelling at him from the inside. He took a grip on the drain pipe and began climbing downwards. Smoker heard a faint thump as the younger man's boosts hit the asphalt, and he saw him disappearing into the dark of the summer night. That fucker.

**And that marks the end of chapter two. It was actually on time. Swedish time: Thursday 23:51. Hopefully, see you next week. **


	3. You come here often?

_Chapter 3 –__ You come here often?_

Smoker looked out over the police men in the office. Most of them were busy with different tasks, and they ran between the tightly packed desks, which were spread all over the office. How could it be that so many people were working on just two major cases, and there hadn't been any progress on either of them for a week? The first of them, the case of the dawn Pyro, had been on ice the past few weeks, but only three days ago, he had made a new appearance.

Just like usual, he had been gone from the scene of the crime long before the police cab had found its way there. Grand Line might be small, but it was filled with the crooky and confusing streets that could usually be found in such towns. The police men had the disadvantage that they were not able to go through the gardens of the terrace houses in the outskirts of town, or over the roofs of the industrial buildings.

Smoker sighed and shook his head as he went back into his office. As a reflex, he looked over at the window to see if someone unexpected had shown up. Ever since the night he had discovered the brat outside his window, he had been almost paranoid.

He slapped himself mentally. He was going to win this battle. That damn kid was simply a bit ahead of him, but it was nothing that he couldn't catch up to again, he comforted himself.

He picked up the folder containing Crocodile's file and read it for at least the hundredth time within the past few days. Smoker hadn't achieved much information from the pyro, but puzzling a bit with unfamiliar pieces had given him some ideas about who might be involved. From the description of the couple in the alley, he had some suspects. Of course, without knowing which of them that the brat had seen in the alley, he couldn't do anything.

Ace yawned magnificently as he walked out from the class room, heading to the cafeteria for lunch. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear his mind from the absolute dullness of his lessons about law that his grand father forced him to take. Curse that old man for forcing him to become a lawyer. There couldn't possibly be a more boring occupation. The only thing that he approved of with these lessons was the fact that he learned everything about how the law-system worked, as well as what the police were allowed to do, and what they weren't. Of course, he used it to his own benefit as often as he could.

As he entered the cafeteria the smell of the food hit him, and he quickly removed himself from the room. Some days the food served at the university was as bad as it could possibly get, and those days Ace refused to eat there. He got enough bad tasting food at home, as his ability in cooking was lacking.

Leaving the university grounds, he wondered where to go. He smiled when an idea came to mind. He decided that he ought to kill two birds with one stone and headed in the direction of the police station. He'd made a discovery yesterday, and he felt it was best to tell Smokey.

_Yesterday _

At first, he thought of raiding another house, but dismissed the idea. He was way too tired after all the energy-draining classes he had to deal with at the university. Instead, he wandered around town his usual route over the rooftops. He preferred the brighter part of the town, with the gardens and the park, but it was easier to go undiscovered in the industrial area and the Centrum, filled with offices closed for the night.

No one would see him ten floors up, but if he went strutting around in people's gardens they would notice him in no time. He liked the streets of Centrum in the day time, and the same went for the park, but they weren't places he wanted to be after nightfall. The night was his time of freedom, and he wanted to spend those hours as far away from the public as possible.

He stood at the edge of one of the higher buildings, hidden in the shadow so nobody would call the police about a midnight suicidal. The wind blew in his face and at that moment he enjoyed his life, and everything in it. Every last bit, from his small, odd family, to the university and his battle of wits with officer Smoker.

Ace sat down on the edge with his legs dangling over it. The officer had proven himself more fun than Ace first had thought. He smiled at the memory of his coffee and surprised look the man had worn when Ace had waved at him from the officer's bedroom window. He sighed contently as he looked up at the stars. He had done right facing Smoker that evening.

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar squeaky voice far down in the alley. It was faint, but thanks to the overwhelming silence, he could recognize the voice as the one belonging to the woman who seemed to work for Crocodile. Careful not to fall down towards a certain death, Ace climbed downwards via drainpipes, window sills, and odd bricks in the building. This time he was determined to find out where Croc was hiding.

~*~*~*~

Smoker's stomach growled unhappily, and he started having trouble ignoring it. He growled himself and put back the list of suspects with their photos in the bottom drawer and locked it. He took his gray jacket that was hanging on the hook next to the door and put it on, along with his police cap. Hesitating for a moment, he strapped on his gun in it holster and attached a pair of hand cuffs to his belt, just in case.

Marching out of the police office, he set off to a small restaurant a couple of blocks away from the station to satisfy his stomach's needs. Walking down the street in the sun made him loosen up a bit, and a faint smile covered his face when he opened the door to his favourite restaurant. A small bell rang as he entered, and the woman behind the desk nodded, recognizing him. He nodded back and took a seat two tables away from the door. The restaurant had high-backed booths stacked against each other. Smoker liked it, because he could remain anonymous, since no one could look at him unless they chose to lean conspicuously out of their seats. Smoker didn't bother to look at the menu, but simply stated:

"The usual and a cold beer."

Waiting for the food and drink, he spent his time looking out the window at all the people passing in front of his eyes. The feeling of spring was noticeable, and he saw at least four confirmed couples walking hand in hand or hugging each other. He stretched out his legs under the table, thinking how his life would change with a girlfriend. Not that he wanted one, he said to himself, almost afraid that he would fall in love. There wasn't one girl who would stand him, his work and his behaviour. He smiled at something his older brother used to tell him.

'Geoffrey, you are going to be the eternal bachelor if you continue this way.' He didn't agree with his brother on many things, but this was one of the few exceptions. The beer was served a couple of minutes before the food, and he began drinking from the mug, still looking out on the street.

Ace closed his eyes and breathed in the soft air of spring as he sat on a bench on the side walk. It got warmer each day, and he enjoyed it as much as all others out on the street. Ace wasn't particularly fond of the winter or anything where it was much colder than the temperature outside today. He was a true summer creature.

Looking over at his left side, he saw the restaurant where Smoker had gone in not five minutes ago. It didn't seem as if the cop had seen him, despite him sitting there in the window staring out all the people in the street, so Ace got up from the bench and stretched his back until he heard a cracking noise.

As he opened the door, a small bell rung to signal his entrance. Smoker didn't notice it, so Ace went over to the table between the cop and the door, preparing for a fast escape if needed. He leaned over towards the gray haired man who still looked out the window, sipping on his beer.

"Hey, you come here often?" he said with a teasing voice. Before Smoker turned around to see who it was, his cheeks wore a slight red blush. Ace grinned and wondered what the officer had been thinking of.

When he heard a young voice next to him, Smoker's cheeks immediately turned a bit brighter; feeling busted for his earlier thoughts. He turned around, facing no one. He looked around, and eventually found a familiar profile on the other side of the back support. immediately, he placed his hand on his gun, but before he drew it, the other man started talking.

"You have two opinions as I see it. Catch me, and therefore never catch Croc. That would involve you shooting at me on a crowded street, or inside of here, because I'm not simply going to let you win. Shooting, well, even simply drawing your gun would mean a lot of problem in the form of paper work for you, and you are already stressed, I can tell. I want this to be a fun game, but if you do anything, I am afraid I have to quit."

Smoker sat still as the other one had indirectly asked him to do, waiting for him to continue.

"And, if you simply listen to me, I will give you more information."

"Aren't you getting in trouble by talking to the police?" Smoker asked in a low voice, not answering his question quite yet. The younger boy snorted.

"I always get in trouble, whatever I do. My grandfather hates me for it."

Smoker made a mental note that he had a grandfather, but scratched it a few seconds later. It wasn't something that was going to help him in the investigation.

"But it was very sweet of you to worry about me. You seem to make a habit out of it," Ace said referring to their last conversation, his voice breaking a bit by his laughter.

"Screw you." the cop muttered. He wasn't concerned about the boy; he was concerned about his information source, and that was it.

"So I can assume that you just want to talk, then?" Ace nodded approvingly. "Smokey, I think this relationship is going to do good for you." He smiled, and before Smoker had a chance to speak, Ace continued:

"Now, I promised that I would tell you more about the Croc, and I will."

Ace looked around, for once careful about who might be listening. Leaning a bit more towards the older man he, began his short story.

"Yesterday, I found their base. I know where it is. I was climbing around in town when I saw that couple I talked about last time. They headed the same direction as before, but this time I actually followed them all the way."

Smoker almost flew out of his seat, hitting his head in the excitement. His eyes were wide and he wanted to shake the information out of the young man.

"Where is it, brat!?" he asked with a stressed voice. A chance like that only came once in a career, and Smoker would love to finally be able to arrest the villain that had given them so much trouble. And then –of course– also capture his information source. Those were the game rues. Smoker smiled at his luck.

"Whoa, as if I would say that...". Ace simply stated. He raised an eye brow as he heard how Smoker put his hand on the gun attached to his belt.

"Don't do anything hasty. You want to know where Croc is hiding and I know that you would, well, kill for that information. It just so happens that you can't kill _me_, 'cause that would mean a point of no return in finding their hideout."

"Yet you say that you aren't going to tell me where it is. Then, what am I supposed to do?" Smoker sneered at him angrily.

"Trust me.", Ace said with a low voice.

"I would never trust you." Smoker answered in a dark voice as if he had been insulted by Ace's calm and careful way of stating trust.

"You already do, Smokey, you already do. You trust me to find information. You trust me to not tell anybody. And you trust me that I won't screw this up. I know you do. You trust me."

Smoker said nothing, staring out of the window. His food had yet to arrive, but he took a mouthful of beer to wash away the bitter feeling of being wrong and knowing that the hated brat was right.

"Next time I visit you, I won't knock on your window, but on your front door."

Smoker looked confused, but Ace continued on.

"You will prepare a nice dinner, and be a good host. After that, I will tell you where it is."

Smoker was now indeed very confused, and simply asked:

"Why?"

"Why not?" Ace smiled. "It's going to be fun, Smokey. Let's say Saturday."

The woman behind the counter came with a plate that she placed in front of Smoker.

"Here you go." Smoker nodded, and as he turned around, the bell attached to the door rang, and he saw the back of the brat as he walked out of the restaurant.

Once again he had left Smoker behind. It had started to be a bad habit. The cop would never like him if he simply left him all the time, it started to get on Smoker's nerves. He shook his head at his inner monologue, correcting himself. He would never like the brat, no matter what happened. Still, a bit of him didn't deny with all it's power that he looked forward to what was too come this weekend.

**And that was chapter 3. This story is much easier to write than Someone, but I am going to continue on that one now! **

**Just a question; I am not too fast-paced with this?**

**Love to all readers and reviewers and to MintyTwins!**


	4. That's one step too far

_Chapter_ _4 – That's one step too far_

To pass the time, Ace actually studied and did what he needed to… Of course, that didn't exclude some nightly visits to a few choice houses. A few families would return to their homes only to find that a window was cleverly opened and most of their valuables were missing. It was so easy during the spring and summer. People tended to visit each other like ants on a picnic and it was never hard to find a house that stood empty for the night. The winter was much harder. During the colder times of the year people preferred to stay home in the heat. Ace didn't blame them, he liked a warm home more during winter, too. It was way too cold to go jumping around houses and as soon as a little ice covered the big buildings it became a lot more dangerous than it already was.

On Wednesday, Ace found himself tempted when he was searching through a house and found two tickets to a vacation in France. He read on the tabs that the airplain left on Saturday, the same date that he had set to meet with Smoker. He looked at the tickets with a questioning gaze, as though the paper would and tell him what to do.

Carefully, Ace put them back on the shelf where he found them. The couple that lived here will need some comfort when they find out that all of their silverware, all of the woman's jewellery, and a fat wallet left behind by a careless person were all gone. Ace sent a linger look toward the two tickets before turning around and walking up the stairs to reach the window he had entered through.

Smoker had no idea, absolutely _no idea_ what he was supposed to do. He couldn't concentrate on his work because his thoughts kept drifting towards the brat and the coming Saturday. He had tried coffee, he had worked out, and he had even bashed his head into a wall. Nothing helped, and he didn't know what to do. He had put people on the case of finding the two the brat had described, but so far neither of them had been located. He hadn't been given anything useful to work with, but the kid sat hard on all the crucial information Smoker needed for the Crocodile case. And, as it seemed at the moment, he wasn't ready to let go of it without a fight. Muttering to himself, Smoker thought of arresting the black haired brat for withholding information from the police. As if the rest of his crimes weren't enough to put him away for a long, long time.

Since he wasn't able to concentrate properly on anything different, a lot of Smoker's waking hours were spent thinking about that pest. If Smoker would have his way, the youngster ought to be behind bars this minute. Smoker hated that he roamed free, and that Smoker never was able to keep track of him. And the fact that Smoker needed him for the case slowly ate Smoker's pride from the inside. He had never depended on anyone before, and for it to be a criminal brat that he _needed_ to trust was the worst situation imaginable. He was cocky, a thief, and way too young to be doing what he was doing. From his experience, many of the professionals were over forty years old, but this brat could hardly pass as twenty. It was clear that he had experience. What the hell had started his life of crime? One of the few things he did know about the brat was that he worked solo. There had never been any report about a partner in crime and somehow, Smoker felt that the brat wasn't one to work with people. At least, until now.

The grey haired man sighed and buried his face in his hands as he leaned backwards on his office chair. He needed to get rid of a problem—one with black wavy hair, freckles and a quite annoying smile.

And it all got worse when the boy didn't even give him peace at night. Smoker dreamt nightmares that the brat sat on his window sill, just like that time. Only this time the brat came into his apartment, and started walking around, and Smoker couldn't do anything. When he rushed into his living room where the brat had seated himself on the sofa, the black haired kid only said:

'Welcome home, Smokey. How was your day?' with a grin on his face.

Sweating and breathing hard, Smoker sat up in his bed, with the covers a tangled mess to one side. What the hell had just happened? The room was dark , but a faint source of light could be seen under the door, coming from the living room. Smoker knew very well that he had turned the light off before falling asleep. Something wasn't right. He threw away the covers and quickly got up from his bed, aiming for the door with fast-paced steps. Not even bothering to put on a t-shirt or something else to cover himself, Smoker swung the door open and rushed out of his bed room in nothing but a pair of loose sweat pants.

A faint crunching noise was heard from the other side of the room, and when he turned over to look, a too familiar orange hat was sticking up behind the back support of the leather chair that he had seen in his dream. Just like the don in the Godfather, the brat slowly spun the chair around and he looked into the eyes of Smoker.

"You're late, Smokey." he said and took another potato crisp from the bag he held in his lap. He slowly nodded towards the clock hanging on the wall. It showed almost ten to three. Smoker breathed in quickly, and tightening his fist, brought it swiftly towards the face of the brat. He tried to dodge, but his cheek caught a part of the punch. Ace closed his eyes for a second, but remained seated. Only for a second did he reveal that the punch had hurt, as though the upcoming bruise wasn't giving him away. The brat was either tough or great at playing it.

"What. The. _Hell_. Are. You. Doing. Here?", Smoker breathed.

"I'm visiting you." he answered, only with a slight slur. Ace's eyes fell from Smoker's face and examined his body, and nodded almost approvingly.

Ignoring the younger man's looks, Smoker yelled in his face: "But why?! You're in my house in the middle of the night!"

"Yes, I am aware of that." Ace said with a calm voice, but a cocky smile covered his face, despite his injured cheek. He took yet another crisp, and the crunching noise returned as he slowly moved his jaw. The sound was driving Smoker madder than he already was and he had to clench every muscle in his body to refrain himself from jumping on the brat and strangling him.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't beat the shit out of you?" he breathed slowly. He knew too well he couldn't kill the brat, yet, but he _could_ beat him to a bloody pulp.

"There would be blood on your expensive carpet?" Ace said and smiled. No matter how illegal his occupation was, he had gotten himself quite an eye for what was valuable. He fingered on the brim of his hat and looked innocently up at Smoker.

"And if you beat me, I won't be able to come on Saturday." He was confident in the fact that Smoker wasn't going to start a fight with him in the middle of the night. At least he hoped so. He knew very well that Smoker was many times stronger than himself, and the sight of a topless Smoker only supported his belief. Damn, the man was nothing but muscles. His jaw hurt like hell, but he'd be damned if he showed it. Smoker's punch had surprised him, but he guessed that he must have surprised Smoker himself by showing up at this hour. His visit actually had a purpose, though. He clenched his jaw and relaxed it, trying to convince the pain that he was okay, and it could leave his cheek now.

"Smokey, I just wanted to give you a late birthday gift", he smiled. His quick attitude had faded a bit since being hit, but he kept his cocky smile plastered to his face.

"Look out towards the parking lot." he said, as he didn't feel like drawing it out any longer. Smoker frowned, but did as Ace told him to. He squinted, trying to discover something out in the dark night. From behind him, he heard Ace whispering 'further left'. The man jumped a bit at the closeness of the other one. He hadn't heard Ace get up from the chair.

"Don't startle me like that", he mumbled, not looking at the boy. A small, small part of him felt very, very guilty about delivering a punch to the freckled face.

Looking further left as instructed, he discovered something dark under the lamppost. Even if the light was on, he could only make out a black shape, about the size of a human. Two seconds later, the shape moved. It was a man, tied to the post. Smoker turned around quickly, grabbed Ace's shoulders, and smashed him into the wall next to the window. Ace didn't have a single chance against the larger man.

Pinning the younger man against the wall, Smoker stood face to face with Ace, staring into his eyes.

"That's one step too far, brat. I won't let you fucking tie a person to a lamppost and get away with it." Smoker snarled, and practically baring his teeth at him. The grumpy police man wasn't the person you picked a fight with at three in the morning.

As the smell of Smoker's tooth paste hit Ace in the face, his heart started racing faster. This was unexpected. He never imagined Smoker would act like this, and Ace couldn't get a word out of his mouth as an explanation. Except the strong smell of the spearmint tooth paste that Smoker breathed, there was other strong senses; except the thin layer of sweat over his upper body, his breath smelled strongly of smoke and there was also a very faint smell of cinnamon.

Neither Smoker nor Ace moved a muscle for the following seconds. Hardly a palm's width apart, they both stared at each other, Smoker's stern eyes and Ace's big, black ones. Since the very beginning it had been Ace who controlled the rules, but now suddenly the roles had switched and neither of them were quite sure how to progress any further. Smoker's grip around Ace's shoulder started to hurt as Smoker buried his fingers into Ace's skin. Not wanting to get hurt even more, Ace broke free from his unresponsive state and quietly said:

"Call the cops, Smokey, and tell them that you caught one of Croc's underlings."

Smoker blinked surprised, but remained with Ace pinned against the wall. It took him some seconds to take in the strange information.

"Are you telling me that you caught one of his men?" He nodded towards the window, not letting go of Ace. "That man out there is one of Crocodile's men?"

"I haven't caught anybody. You caught him, Smokey." Ace smiled, a little more confident in himself now that he caught Smoker off guard.

"But...?" Smoker was more than confused at the moment.

"You caught him lurking in the bushes, right? Don't you remember?" Ace grinned and leaned forward slightly. For one second it looked like Smoker was doing the same, but once that single second was over, he let go of Ace and backed of.

"Why?" He asked, not giving anything away with his stern voice.

"I told you, it's my birthday gift for you."

"Don't give me that. My birthday is in March, months ago." he said and crossed his arms.

Ace smiled and scratched his neck. He shrugged his shoulders and grinned even wider.

"I guess I was wrong then." He walked sideways towards the other end of the living room, aiming for the kitchen door, but his way was blocked by a big and confused Smoker.

"Why, brat, would you do that? What do you have to gain by doing this?"

"It helps you to get rid of Croc." Ace said in a manner that gave Smoker the impression that it was a rehearsed phrase. Something was not quite right, and it bugged him. What was wrong with the brat?

"Let me leave. I did what I came here to do." The smile was gone from his face, and a serious tone was added instead, but still it looked as if the brat was hiding something from Smoker.

Smoker was seriously tempted to say no, to keep the brat in his apartment, but slowly moved away from the door; realizing that it was the sane thing to do in this situation.

Ace took some quick steps out to the kitchen and after a little while Smoker heard him leave through the window through which he must have entered. The older man still stood on the same spot, and let out the breath he hadn't realized that he kept in.

He needed to stop this, right now. The brat had a really bad effect on him, and he surprised himself. What had become of him? It wasn't like him to feel this way, and not towards some brat whose name he didn't even know. He looked out the window, but saw nothing but the man who was still was tied up. Remembering the brat's order, he picked up his phone and called the police man on night duty, and told him to send a car to his home address.

After ending the call, he sighed. With dead eyes he looked at the spot of the wall where they had stood so close to each other. The brat captured and pinned down had been so much different from the other, usual brat, and he didn't know which version he preferred.

It had been close, way to close. For a split second he had been on his way to get a taste of the mouth that smelled so strange. There had been apples, barbecue and a faint sense of gasoline. At that time, a place in his mind had been very busy wondering: if he kissed the boy, would he taste like fire? Smoker violently shook his head, and as he actually bashed his head against the wall he blamed the silly thought on the beer last night and the fact that it was past three in the morning. How was he now supposed to handle Saturday?

Ace's cheeks were flushed as he took every short cut he knew on his way home. No buses drove at this hour, and it was quite a distance between Smoker's apartment and Ace's small house. The long way in the silence of the night wasn't as comforting as usual. The visit at Smoker's place hadn't gone as planned. To be honest, it had gone straight to hell. They had been way too close, and he knew it. He had known from the very beginning that it was going to be interesting when he started bugging Smoker, but now he realized that everything came crashing down.

As he continued running, he shook his head violently. He was _not_ getting attached to the enemy. He was using Smoker to gain his fame and to get rid of that bastard Crocodile. No way in hell was he falling for an old, grey haired, grumpy, well trained, and, _damn it_, good looking cop. And he did _not_ want to kiss those harsh looking, smoky, cinnamon topped lips. This was not how he planned his life would turn out. That damn man had simply, brutally and probably without knowing it, turned his life upside down, and Ace didn't like the fact that he was enjoying it.

* * *

**Here's a little fourth chapter. I am going to wait until chapter five until we all get to enjoy our dinner date. Hope you liked the chapter, and our poor heroes.**

**Love from SlowSunrise!**


	5. Caught in Action

_**A/N:**_Oups, stuff had to happen before the dinner date. Live with me for this chapter. Also, I'm sorry this got delayed. I had finals, my betas had finals, I was tired after Dreamhack (computer festival in Sweden). At last, it's finished so enough whining, go read chap 5.

* * *

Chapter 5 – Caught in action

Waking up just a few hours after he went home to his empty house, Ace yawned and felt a stinging pain on his right cheek. As he climbed out of his king-size bed and put his feet on the cold floor a shiver ran up his spine. He quickly pulled his feet up again, and leaned over the side of the bed to grab a pair of worn slippers from beneath it.

The house was big, comfortable and everything he asked for… except one thing. One of the things that stood highest on his wish list was to put a fireplace in his bed room. No matter how warm he was when he entered his bed, after waking up the room was cold as stone. A fire burning in the room all night would easily solve that problem.

Finally rising up from his bed, Ace stretched his body fully, standing nude in the middle of the big room. He grabbed a loose t-shirt from where it hung on his desk chair. The old wooden desk was filled with piles of unread school books, a couple of half-empty coffee cups and a novel by Stieg Larsson, The girl with the Dragon tattoo, the only book on that desk ever to be opened.

After putting on up a pair of boxers, as well as a worn pair of jeans that was torn at one of the knees, Ace rolled up the curtain and let the early morning sun shine in through his dirty windows. The sun helped him warm up slightly, but he still shivered as he walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. Yet another yawn escaped his lips as he opened the door to the fridge and picked out butter and ham. He toasted two sandwiches as he glared at the coffee machine. After engaging himself in his daily struggle with his second arch enemy, he got a cupful of… well, brown liquid pouring down from the tap. Holding his nose, Ace swallowed most of the contents and put the cup in the overfull sink. He hesitated for a moment, thinking about cleaning up, but shrugged his shoulders and walked out in the hallway with the toasted sandwiches in his hand.

Putting on his boots, he froze mid-step as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung on the wall. Covering his cheek was a big bruise that was starting to turn purple. Stroking it, he felt it sting. Pictures of Smoker jumping at him flashed through his mind, and he grabbed the coat rack so he wouldn't fall. He noticed that his face was getting redder and brighter. Shit, this was really going too far. Looking at the bruise once again, he sighed. Not a great thing to walk around with, not with police officers patrolling the town. Stuffing one of the toasts in his mouth, he looked sadly at his reflection. Looking like this, people would ask questions, and it was years since anyone fell for the old "I fell down the stairs".

Never seeming to get enough rest, Smoker yawned as he entered through the front door of the police department. His eyes were dimmed with sleep and the world looked way too hazy. A loud voice woke him up from his 'sleepwalking'.

"Officer Smoker! Come to my office, now!" Garp stood with his grand body in the doorway into his dreaded office. Leaning his head slightly backwards, looking up at the white roof and the blinding spotlights installed there, Smoker wondered what more trouble he would have to deal with.

Walking into his boss' office, the answer became clear. On two chairs two young boys sat and waited. One of them swung with his legs back and forward while to other one just stared forward with an unreadable expression, similar to the face Smoker usually wore. They looked about fifteen and Smoker knew per fact that they were. Placing his palm over his face, Smoker sighed and mumbled:

"What now?"

"Hello, Mr. Cop!" the younger looking, black haired boy said. He smiled from ear to ear, and it seemed as though he didn't think that being in the police chief's office was a problem. Smoker frowned as he took a chair and placed himself opposite the both boys.

"What have you done now?" he asked, leaning his heavy head in his hands. The bearded police boss glared at the youngsters and opened his mouth, but the black haired boy beat him to it.

"We were just on an adventure!" he stood up for a second, pointing towards the sky, but Garp pushed him down again.

"Sit down, brat!" he growled.

Smoker jumped a bit, as hearing the word 'brat' led his thought towards something he wasn't too keen to remember right now.

"Zoro." Smoker said as he ignored his invaded thoughts. "What the fuck happened, and why are you here." The other boy, who looked older than the rather energetic boy, finally made eye contact with the police officer. He smirked and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Luffy just said it. We were on an adventure... out on the military fields." Closing his eyes and leaning backwards it looked like Smoker was in pain. He opened his eyes and looked tiredly into Zoro's black ones.

"On the military... Fuck, Zoro, can't you stay out of trouble." Turning towards his boss, the grey haired man asked:

"Have you called his father yet?" There was no need for him to specify who he was talking about.

"You can handle it, Smoker. Just make sure they don't do it again!" Garp muttered as he started to walk out the door. Turning around on his heel, he hit the black haired boy in the back of his head. The kid didn't seem to be bothered by it; instead he kept on smiling.

"Get out of here, brat."

Smoker's eyes twitched, but he kept still. The black haired kid nodded and jumped up and left the dark office. In the door way, he turned around and looked at Smoker and Zoro, now alone in the room.

"I'll wait for you outside, ne?"

Beeeep, beeeep, beeeep. Ace tapped impatiently on the hand set to the phone. He wanted the secretary on the other line to answer faster than this. There was nothing more boring than being on hold.

"Welcome-to-Grand-Line-University, how-can-I-help-you?" a female voice was heard in the phone.

"Hello, my name is Ace Portgas and I need to talk to the teacher in Modern Law Construction." After yet another minute or two a man answered, and Ace told him that he couldn't make it to today's lesson.

"That is all right, Portgas." the man said with a slow voice, and Ace suspected that his teacher was trying to discover if Ace had some shady reason for skipping class. "Just do the work everybody else is supposed to be doing and I'll let today pass. You can find it on the web site." Silently, Ace bit his lips to keep from moaning over the assignment

"Yes sir, thank you." Ace said with a voice containing just the right amount of enthusiasm. After putting his phone down, Ace looked up at the ceiling and sighted loudly. This shitty assignment meant that he actually needed to do something.

He strolled over to his computer and pressed the start button. The computer was fairly new, bought with stolen money of course, and when it started up in just twenty seconds his desktop covered the screen.

Like all of his valuable things, Ace's camera was stolen. He had gotten his hands on it in the beginning of the spring, around April, and it had taken him some time for him to get used to how the complicated digital camera worked. Sometimes he had taken it with him during his nightly rounds in houses, but mostly had he used it when he had been on the top of one of Grand Line's higher building, looking down at the world and taking its picture.

His desktop, however, was not taken from the highest point in the town. On one hand, it was taken from above, but it was only about three or four meters off the ground, a normal height of a house. He had decided to play a game and research different police officers. The picture now covering his desk top was a photo of Smoker walking towards the police station through the park. Some birds had decided to fly away just as Ace snapped the secret photo and that had brought the effect of Smoker standing in a cloud of birds, not looking all too grumpy. He had fallen for Smoker and his ways the first time he had seen him.

Not, not falling in love, no, he though. Halting his thoughts at the word, Ace leaned his forehead in his palm, black hair dangling in his face.

His life was going down the hill, that was for sure. Two days from now, he had told Smoker that he would meet up with him in his apartment for a fucking dinner date. The man slide down in his chair until his armpits was caught by the frame of it, and his back was twisted backwards. A great sigh escaped him, and this time it wasn't for his assignment. Smoker was bad news, yet Ace couldn't stay away. He knew he was bad news for Smoker too. Hell, he was bad news for all of Grand Line, but yet Smoker seemed too...

Ace swung forward so fast that the blood rushed to his head too fast and made him dizzy, but as he gained control, he clicked away the desk top picture through starting his web browser and accesing the university's site. Two days would be enough for this silly homework, he thought, and pushed every tiny attempt to thought about the police officer aside to a dark corner of his mind.

"Zoro, when are you going to grow up? You can't run around like a fool all your life." Smoker said with a stern voice, directed to the green haired teen. One pair of black eyes met another pair as the two males did nothing but stare at each other.

"You do realize that he is going to get you for this one day. Garp may forgive Luffy easily, but one day, it's not going to be enough for him to be the grandchild of the police chief. And when that happens, it is not going to help you to be the friend of the grandchild of the police chief, even if your uncle is a police officer with a little influence around here."

Smoker knocked on the table to bring Zoro's attention to him. Pointing an index finger at the teen he continued his lesson, and it wasn't the first time that he was rehearsing it.

"Do you have any idea how much I had to work since your last little 'adventure', as the kid called it?" Smoker said and made quote signs with his fingers.

Zoro simply smirked and stated: "Alot, uncle Geoff?"

Zoro stretched his arms as he left the police station when Smoker finally had let him go, sending him with a scolding letter to his father, Smoker's brother. Zoro looked around and took in the feeling of a summer afternoon. Luffy sat on a bench just a couple of meters away.

"Do you know something funny Zoro?" the kid said, not looking at his friend, but gazing up at the clouds. Zoro shook his head, and sat down beside him. "Grandpa always says that I should become a police officer, or lawyer, and to become more like my brother." Not saying more than that, he kept silent. Zoro, who waited for the actual funny pun, looked at him questioningly.

"What's so funny about that?"

"My brother is not going to be a cop, nor a lawyer. Even if he does study now, he isn't going to be one." Still not getting it, Zoro continued asking questions:

"So, then what does your brother do?" he said, trying to get the information out of his friend.

"He robs people. But you can't tell grandpa, ne Zoro?" The second sentence was added almost in panic, after he realized it was not something he ought to tell anybody.

If Zoro would have had any kind of food or drink in his mouth at that moment, it would have spurted out on the ground at his surprise.

"Your brother, what? How the fuck?"

"It's not something I ought to tell you, but my brother is that guy who calls himself 'The Dawn Pyro', Or maybe it was the newspaper who made up the name. I think it's a cool name, awesome, right?" His eyes sparkled and he tugged at the hem of Zoro's sweater.

"That's not really the issue here, Luffy..." Zoro said, and tried to think of something reasonable to say, but failed. And as Zoro didn't say anything, Luffy took up the quest to fill the empty air.

"He tells me everything, and it's so cool. If you promise not to tell any cop, I can tell you everything." As it was a promise Zoro could easily keep he nodded as a sign for Luffy to start.

When Zoro finally took the bus towards his house, he had gotten more information than he thought was possible to store in Luffy's air-filled head. Who would have guessed that Luffy's law student to brother was one of Grand Line's most wanted criminals, and the main character of a case Zoro himself had been following in the newspaper? Silently, but never thinking about breaking his promise to Luffy, he imagined how much his uncle Geoffrey Smoker would pay for that information.

_~ Saturday ~_

Smoker went round in circles in his hallway. The bastard had never told him what time he would come, and Smoker wouldn't really give a shit if he came too late and the food had turned cold on him. He wasn't a master in the kitchen, but at least his coffee had been approved by the brat, so Smoker imagined that his prepared steak and potato salad would work together with a bottle of wine. The man glared at the dark bottle. He had gone through a great deal of arguing with himself to find the right bottle. It wasn't supposed to be too expensive, but it wasn't supposed to taste like shit. At the end it had come down to a French bottle from the '90s: budget price, but it had scored high in the local news paper test.

At first Smoker had been unsure about whether to treat his so-called guest to a bottle of wine. He got way too many romantic vibes from it, but had decided that beer wasn't the way to be a good host, and this time Smoker needed to act like one.

All that remained to be found out was if it was for the sake of gaining information, or, and Smoker was fearing this possibility, if it was because he liked the brat and wanted to be a good host so he would feel comfortable.

A knock on the door made Smoker jump at least an inch up into the air. The point of no return, he tried to state calmly to the hall way mirror as he reached for the knob to open the door and seal his fate.

* * *

**A/N:** _So, this means cliffhanger and an absolute promise about a next chapter dinner date! Next chapter tomorrow or day after that! It is finished, but I won't post both chapters at the same day. *evil*_


	6. Something Beautiful

_**A/N:**__ Oh, yes, dinner daaate~ Just wanted to say hi, and I hope this chapter makes up for me being delayed a bit. This chapter is written during just one day (on which I also went to school) but it turned out as I wanted it to. And it's __**big**__, so rejoice!_

_Chapter 6 – Something beautiful_

Ace swallowed the knot in this throat as he knocked on the wooden door leading into the department of Geoffrey Smoker. The little sticker on the door stated his name, and below that it read "No soliciting." He guesses Smoker wasn't the type of person with patience to go through piles and piles of advertising and junk mail. The thought made him imagine Smoker sitting at his desk, cutting coupons for the soup of the day and cheap tooth brushes. He chuckled, but the sound stopped as soon as he heard Smoker laying his hand on the door knob on the other side of the door. Drawing his hand through his hair one last time in an attempt to control his wavy hair, he took a deep breath and put on his most innocent smile.

Smoker hesitated a quarter of a second before he turned the knob and opened the door. Outside in the stairwell stood the brat, all dressed up and smiling. He had taken off the orange hat that Smoker had seen him wearing before, and he had drawn his hair backwards so that the raven hair fell down the neck and behind the ears. A single strand of hair had fought its way to his forehead. The picture, worthy of a movie star, was only marred slightly by the bruise that still covered the boy's cheek. A small sting of guilt hit Smoker, but his eyes continued down the brat's body.

The rest of the boy had also changed appearance. He wasn't wearing the cargo pants he usually wore, or anything Smoker was used to see him in. Black, ironed and very tight jeans covered his legs, and on his upper body he wore a red shirt and even a suit jacket. The jacket was unbuttoned, and so were the top buttons of the shirt, revealing the brat's tanned collar bones.

His freckled face smiled at him, and the raven haired man took a half step forward as though to ask if he could come inside. Smoker mumbled something that even he couldn't make out and stepped aside.

After Smoker had slowly opened the door, Ace raised an eyebrow and had to refrain from whistling. It seemed as though he wasn't the only one who had dressed up for the evening. Smoker didn't wear a suit jacket as he did, but a tie was hanging a bit too loosely around his neck to be considered formal clothing. The bigger man wore a fair green shirt with faint white stripes. The material seemed so soft that Ace wanted to stretch his hand out and touch it. He stopped himself, thinking that laying his hand on the other man's torso wasn't the best way to start this already-tense evening. Instead he smiled and put his foot a bit forward, as though it wanted to ask when Smoker was going to let him in.

"I guess that I ought to invite you in," Smoker said. "You can put your..." The man was interrupted as a single flower was thrust a few inches in front of his face. The lone rose seemed huge from this angle. Surprised, Smoker accepted the flower and looked down at the boy.

"As you're supposed to be a good host, I thought that I ought to be a good guest.", he said to the wall as he bent down to unlace his boots, the only clothing that Smoker recognized. The black combat boots didn't really fit in with the image of the Latino-looking lover boy.

"You bought me a rose?" Smoker said, dumbfounded.

"Yes, and you know what?" Ace said with a smirk. Smoker shook his head, not really sure how to react to the gift.

"I actually bought it." the black haired man finished as he put his boots away in a corner of the hallway. Smoker growled, and as he walked into his kitchen, he called backwards:

"You know, after tonight, we are back in game. I am not letting you go!" Ace looked tiredly at him, but still with a smile on his lips.

"We'll see about that, Smokey...Geoffrey Smoker..." he said quietly to himself. Following Smoker into the kitchen, he smelled the wonderful aroma of the police man's food. "Hey Smokey, where did you learn to cook?" he said out of the blue, and snuck up from behind.

The grey haired man was stressed, and the presence of the kid who had been troubling his thoughts for way too long wasn't helping him at all.

"Ge-off-rey..." Ace said and poked Smoker's side. The other man took a step back, and looked down at the brat.

"How the fuck do you know my first name?" For some reason, he felt very uncomfortable hearing that name from somebody outside his small family. Everywhere else, it was Officer Smoker. The brat had done enough to get close to him, and this was yet another dreaded step.

"It said so on the front door, stupid." Ace answered. "Are you scared of your own name?"

"Unused to it, dumbfuck. Nobody but my brother and my nephew uses it."

"Oh, you also have a brother?" Ace smiled. The air inside of the kitchen was tense, and a normal conversation was Ace's solution. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Smoker was trying to shut Ace out.

"Why don't you tell me anything about yourself, while you seem to be able to write a fucking book about me? Hell, I don't even know your name."Out of habit, Ace rambled:

"I have the right to remain silent. Anything I say can and will be used against me in a court of law." After pausing for a couple of dead seconds, Ace continued. "Smokey, you are playing for the good side, and in real life, I am the bad guy. You-you're Luke Skywaker", he smiled.

"You're no fucking Darth Vader, brat. The greatest movie villain of all time is a level or two higher than you." Smoker laughed. To Ace, it was a strange but welcome sound.

"No, no, I'm Anakin." Ace said. "I'm on my way, you see. You haven't seen the real me, have you?"

"I have." Smoker said calmly, "You haven't been playing these weeks. I know that, or I would be the worst police officer in history. Now, eat before the food gets cold."

Leaving it at that, Smoker grabbed the hem of Ace's dress shirt and pulled him towards the combined living and dining room. Music could be heard from Smoker's deluxe speakers. Before he had gone out to open the door, he had started a Robbie Williams-CD. It was one of his favourite songs playing now, but somehow, it seemed as bad timing to walk into the room during this part of "Supreme". From the black speakers, a cocky male voice sang:

"_All the best women are married, All the handsome men are gay, You feel deprived  
Yeah, are you questioning your size?, Is there a tumour in your humour, Are there bags under your eyes?_"

Smoker sighed, and shook his head. He had thought that music would help him through this evening, but maybe he was wrong.

"You know, there are still things I have yet to find out about you, Smokey.", the raven haired man said as he walked behind Smoker. "For example, I had really no idea that you listened to Robbie." Nodding towards the stereo, Ace sung quietly along with the upcoming lines:

"_You must believe, when there's no love in town..._" Before Smoker could respond to anything, Ace smiled and sniffed in the air. "So, are you going to serve some food now? I'm starving." he said and walked towards the set table. Steam still erupted from the plate with a very tasty looking steak, so Ace imagined that he had arrived right on time.

"You better drink wine now. I don't have any beer, and other than this and one other bottle there is only whiskey." Smoker said as he showed with his hand what chair was designed for Ace.

"Then," Ace smiled, "let's start with the wine." He finished with a confident voice and took a seat where Smoker had pointed. Smoker raised a questioning eye brow. The brat's statement had somehow felt like a challenge.

"You think you can beat me at drinking." Smoker said, leaning forward an inch.

"I think I can beat you at anything, my dear Smoker." Ace answered and held his glass forward as an invitation to start the uncalled challenge.

About an hour later, only the t-bone remained of the steak that Smoker had been preparing for hours—even though he assured the brat that it had taken a quarter of the time, because he really didn't care _that _much. The lie had come naturally, as a defence against the brat.

The last of the wine was long since gone, and Ace had prompted that, as a good host, Smoker ought to open that whiskey bottle.

A little unsteady, the police officer walked out in the kitchen and Ace heard him roaming around in the counters. The last track in the CD was reached a while ago, so Ace thought it might be a good idea to start a new one. Searching the shelf on which Smoker's quite small collection of CDs rested, Ace didn't really find anything that drew his attention. Except a few band that he hadn't heard about before, there was an AC/DC CD, two from Alphaville (Ace frowned as he found these two as it didn't seemed like Smoker's taste), and a couple of different collection CDs from those centuries of Smoker's childhood and youth. The last CD was yet another one by Robbie Williams, and it seemed like the best opinion thinking about the choices. He picked it out from its case and put it in the stereo. As he pressed a few random buttons before he found the open and play buttons, he looked at the case and skipped the first song as he wasn't too fond of it. A piano started playing in the speakers, and Robbie sung with a soft voice, one of Ace's favourite songs. He turned the volume up a bit and left the dinning table for a more comfortable position in the leather sofa on the other side of the room.

The young man sighed as he rested his head against the back support. So far, the evening had gone smoothly. They hadn't spoken much during the meal, and when they had, it had been small comments which never lead to a real conversation.

It was now, after the food, that the real challenge started. He listened to the song, and let his thoughts drift away. The lyrics seemed to fit his mood, but that wasn't necessarily good. The police officer meant a little too much to him at the moment, but he hadn't the heart to discontinue bugging the officer. Somehow, that would make him feel even worse.

Ace felt a big hand pat his shoulder, and his heart skipped a beat, as he wasn't ready to be dragged out of his thoughts. Damn, he got lost in his thoughts way too often, and more often than not those thoughts were about Smoker.

"So, if I give you some whiskey will you tell me where Crocodile's hideout is?" It was the first time during the evening that one of them had said anything about the reason for Ace's visit. It had almost been forgotten by the raven haired man. Yet another sign that his relation with Smoker was going over board.

"Maybe", Ace answered as he put on his smiling mask once again, "but a foot massage would favour you." He said with a daring smirk.

Smoker felt like planting another punch on the brat's face for using him like that, and it was all too hard for him to refrain himself from doing it. He hated to look at the bruise and know that it was he who had hurt the beautiful face. Wait, no. Wrong word. Annoying, ah, there it was. That was nothing but a mere error in his word choice. He must have been drinking too much. About a bottle of wine on his own had the effect to make him at least a little dizzy. He mumbled something, and took a gulp from the whiskey bottle. He wasn't going to admit it, neither to himself, nor to anybody else, but this evening was going perfectly.

Handing the bottle to the brat, the grey haired man went to the shelf at the wall and looked through his collection of DVDs. Just like his music collection, it wasn't something he bragged about, but he smiled as he drew out a cheap version of the collector's edition of Star Wars and tossed it on to the couch next to Ace.

He hoped that putting on a movie would count as being a good host, because he couldn't take more dead conversation about nothing. And, if he abandoned his pride, and actually gave the damned brat a foot massage, he might even be on the safe side. If he wasn't getting any information after this evening, he would be sure to smash the brat's head in.

"There you go, Anakin." He made a sound that resembled laughter at the irony that he could call the brat anything but, well brat.

Ace looked up at him, and then down at the DVD-case, and snickered.

"That's okay, _Luke_. And, don't do it, she's your sister." Turning away from the other man, Ace put the whiskey bottle to his lips and took two small sips. As Smoker hadn't cared about it, he figured it was okay.

"Ha-ha, very funny", Smoker said as he picked up the case and bent down to start the DVD-player stored under the TV. "You seem dull today. Usually, you're more alert, and more…" Smoker was searching for the word. "Irritating, bossy, I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders, and luckily enough for Ace, he kept his eyes focused on the machine, because Smoker would have seen the drastic change of colour on Ace's face.

He knew that Smoker was right; he wasn't himself today. Smoker's presence seemed to drain all of his wit and sarcasm, and there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't know if he loved it or hated it, but one way or another, Ace was sure that he was going to steer it to his gain at some point. Taking another sip of the strong liquor, he felt his body relax.

Enjoying the feeling he drank more and was attacked by a coughing fit. His throat felt sore and it sounded like a broken record when he couched. Smoker looked over is shoulder to see what was happening. Seeing the brat struggling with the intake of the rough liquor, he sighed and left the machine for the kitchen. Coming back in half a minute, he gave Ace a glass of water.

"Here, brat."

While banging his chest with a fist to stop the attack, Ace smiled at him and drank half of the glass in one take.

"Sheesh, can't you take it easy while drinking?" Smoker mumbled, mostly to himself, but Ace answered him in an just as quiet tone.

"I'm not really used to it, okay." he grumbled, cheeks going slightly red.

Smoker looked amused, as though Ace was a little kid who he got to scold for misbehaving. Smoker enjoyed every second when he was in command. Usually it was Ace who was steering the situation, but somehow it seemed as though Smoker had gained the upper hand with out doing anything special.

"You're not used to drinking, and yet you challenge me to a drinking contest?! Man, you're dumb." As Smoker picked up the DVD and inserted the disk into the player, he laughed for the third time that day.

Before, Ace's cheeks had been burning slightly, but after hearing Smoker's laughter the heat spread all over his body, and especially into the pit of his stomach. A soft smile made it to his lips as Smoker sat down on the sofa, not too close and not too far away either. Or hell, a little too far away, Ace admitted with a mental pout.

Smoker wasn't sure if he ought to remind Ace about the massage or if he was just supposed to leave the matter. The brat was sitting just and arms length away, or maybe even less than that, and Smoker wondered if it was just his imagination or if he really did smell like gasoline. In a flash he remembered the last time they had met. He still held the mental image of the brat pinned to the wall with a surprised and slightly opened mouth. When Smoker, subconsciously, closed his eyes, he could recognize the smells that he had been able pick out from being so close to his enemy. Damn that pride of his, but he wanted to feel that skin once again, and he wanted it a lot. It took a of his willpower to not do anything.

"You're not looking at the movie, Smokey?" Ace said, leaning forward and angling himself in between the other man and the TV. Smoker opened his eyes and looked into Ace's dark brown ones.

"A little headache", he mumbled, and directed his eyes from the raven haired man to the opening scenes of "The Empire Strikes Back".Hesitating just one moment, Ace puffed out his shoulders and gestured with his finger.

"Move over a bit, so I can give you a massage." He grinned, and Smoker did as he was told, not really thinking about the consequences.

As soon as Ace's hands, skilled in delicate handicraft such as picking locks and opening closed windows, worked their way up and down the flesh that was visible under Smoker's shirt, the officer relaxed and a small purr could be heard, as if a big cat had been scratched on its stomach. Ace lacked experience, but he focused on the tense areas, and worked of the sounds that escaped his lips. Ace grinned as he enjoyed this as much as Smoker did. After several minutes of work Ace hit a spot that made the bigger man moan and almost gasp after air. Grinning more than ever, Ace circled his thumbs around the sore spot at the base of the police man's neck, and once again that blissful sound escaped Smoker.

The grey haired man decided that enough was enough, and shoved Ace away from him, not quite as far away as before the massage, but almost.

"Hey, I was just starting." Ace protested, wanting to hear more sounds erupting from Smoker as much as he wanted to touch more of that rough skin.

"That's the problem. Don't test my limits, brat." Smoker said with an attempt at a stern voice. He was way too affected to sound undisturbed, and it was a bad, bad sign. He knew very well that his limit was crossed a long time ago.

Pouting, Ace put his feet up and removed his socks. Placing the bare feet in Smoker's lap, he said: "It's a fair trade, right?"

Smoker sighted, and accepted the demand for a foot massage and started lightly pulling at the toes and pressing on the underside, earning him a faint growl. Seeing what enjoyment Ace must have seen, Smoker continued experimenting. He would have preferred if his work space had consisted of more than the kid's feet, but as long as he still was able to extract faint noises from the brat, he was pleased, at least for now.

It seemed that he had been crossing his lines several times this evening, and part of it could be blamed on the alcohol circulating in his body, but at this point he knew that that wasn't the whole truth, and it seemed as though the brat also knew that. The question remaining now was how the kid reacted to this. Judging by the sounds of it, he seemed to have problems, but it could very well be the whiskey that haunted him. If that was the case, Smoker wasn't one who wanted to lose face when they were both sober.

Another question was if Smoker ought to ignore the feeling or not. It wouldn't be easy, but he was used to struggling to get what he wanted. He wondered if he could struggle to _not_ get what he wanted.

Ace opened his mouth to a wide gap and a yawn escaped him. Smoker took it as a sign to stop, and Ace smiled at him.

"Well, you have been a great host, Geoffrey." he said, and used Smoker's first name. The kid stretched his arms and placed them behind his neck as he lay down on the free space of the sofa, closing his eyes and steadying his breathing surprisingly quickly

"I'll tell you everything in the morning." he said with a slow and sleepy voice.

"Hey!" Smoker jumped. "Fuck, you're staying here?!" he asked with a panicked voice, but received no reply except slow breathing. Questioningly, he shook the brat's shoulder, but the only response he got was a loud snore. He placed his hand over his face, muttering all kinds of curses. The brat just couldn't give him a break. Looking down at the now sleeping boy he shook his head.

Whatever, he could sleep on the sofa that night. For one second, Smoker thought about locking the door, but realizing that it would do him no good, he shrugged his shoulders, and tried to concentrate on the TV. Not quite successful, he leaned backwards and looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to make time pass.

The brat would keep fucking up his life if he didn't do anything about him. The problem was that Smoker wasn't too keen on actually doing something to prevent the kid from intruding on his life even more. A part of him looked forward to it, and yet another part of him was simply curious, and curious about many things. The biggest thing was probably the brat's fucking name.

The movie ran through for the two, though they weren't giving it the slightest amount of attention, even as one of the most famous movie lines was recited.

"No, Luke, I am your father..." Darth Vader's dark, raspy voice stated to a screaming Mark Hamill. Not even his shoutings of "No, no!" woke the sleeping boy up, and Smoker raised an eyebrow. This boy was certainly a strange one, to be able to fall asleep in _Smoker's_ apartment. It was like a rabbit who could take a nap beside a fox hole.

The stereo still played Robbie's CD. The brat must have hit the repeat button. Instead of looking at the screen, Smoker listened to the music with closed eyes. Ace's head partially rested in his lap, and without giving it much thought, Smoker pulled his fingers through the black hair. The song playing was not one of his favourites, but he couldn't find the motivation to get up and change.

With a soft radio voice, drawing out on the vowels, Robbie sung from the stereo, and from the sofa, Smoker joined in, but more in a quiet, mumbling way.

"_If you're lost, hurt, tired or lonely, May you find that love that won't leave you, May you find it by the end of the day, You won't be lost, hurt, tired and lonely  
Something _beautiful _will come your way._"

Ace moved slightly in his sleep, and caused Smoker to look down at the sleeping boy, mumbling: "Something beautiful will come your way."

He stroked away a few black strands that had made their way to Ace's face, and sighed deeply.

'Nice going, Geoffrey.' he thought, 'A criminal brat who annoys your ass off. Couldn't have found a better person to fall in...'

Even in his own thoughts, Smoker hesitated to use that dreaded word. It was a way too big a step for him to take, and he was scared. That was yet another thing he hated to admit, but

Smoker was scared. Scared of falling in love.

**A/N: **_Oh, yes, that is my dear Robbie (I'm so going to his 2010 tour _*__*_). I thought that those two needed some music, and Robbie Williams was a good option. Also, last chapter I wrote about a book called "The girl with the dragon tattoo", a Swedish book available in English._

_This is simply my way to honour my inspiration sources and great artists/authors. _

_Also, I must be stupid to write about Star Wars when I only have seen the first half of episode IV. :3 __Did I get it right? XD_

_Oh, right the Songs playing are "Supreme", "Feel" and "Something Beautiful". Lyric can be found on THE INTERNET__._

_I hope I can finish next chapter soon!_


	7. The Last Crusade

**This piece is moving on just as it ought to, and even if I'm a bit slow nowadays, I have decided to make the chapters longer, so it's a bit of a payback. **

**This story doesn't have **_**that**_** many chapters left, so enjoy! **

* * *

_Chapter 7 – The last crusade_

Slowly waking up, Smoker realized that he wasn't in his bed, but sitting up, probably on the sofa. His back hurt from the night without proper rest, and he had a slight headache from the drinking yesterday. Raising a hand to his face, he rubbed his eyes and tried to sort out the happenings of the former night. It took about a second.

As if in shock, Smoker opened his eyes, and tried to focus his sleepy gaze on the red and black figure that rested his head in Smoker's lap.

Ace's shirt had become creased during his sleep, but the boy looked peaceful as he lay and snored quietly. The brat smiled in his sleep as a few strands of hair broke free and tickled his nose. The snores were replaced with a sleepy giggle, and it seemed as though Ace was still sleeping. In his sleep, the boy mumbled something, with the smile still on his face.

"Hrm, noo~ Silly Smokey..." Ace's breath hit Smoker's face, and on top of the now fairly familiar smell of apples and fire, there was a distinct smell of alcohol.

Smoker bit his lip and pushed the brat's head away from his lap as he rested his forehead in his hands, leaning forward.

Not once since he moved away from his parents had he dealt with as many problems as the figure on his sofa brought. The kid alone gave him more mental problem than all of Crocodile's gang members combined. He seemed connected to everything Smoker did nowadays, almost as though he controlled the police officer's being. Well, he was partially doing his job already...

Smoker looked back on the evening when the brat had showed up in his apartment with the strange gift tied to a lamp post outside. Thinking, Smoker realized it was only a few days ago. Strangely enough, it felt like an eternity. If you didn't count the time when Smoker only knew him by reputation and not by face, he had only "known" the brat for a couple of weeks, and during a long time of that time span, he hadn't seen a glimpse of him. It was certainly not like him to let people in like that, Smoker thought for himself.

The kid on the sofa turned around, and continued mumbling. Smoker shook his head and got up from the sofa, twisting his torso to stretch it out. He heard a small cracking noise, and muttered about how stupid it was of him to fall asleep on the sofa. Leaving the brat alone, Smoker walked out to his kitchen. Before he entered the room he threw a quick glance back at the boy. He would stay there, even if he woke up. That was the simple trust Smoker had in him. Even if he was a notorious criminal, he hadn't lied to him one single time. Unless you didn't count the silly proposal that the caught criminal tied to a lamp was Smoker's birthday gift…

Heading straight to the coffee machine, Smoker's mind wandered through all of the problems he was bound to face in the following days. The gang member the brat had caught was still held at the police station, but they hadn't been able to break him down (something that disturbed Smoker very much), despite how much they tried. He was simply a wall to talk to. And the man wasn't only mentally strong either. One of the newer police officers had tried to force the information out of him, but it had ended badly for him. Despite the criminal being handcuffed, the police man had still been sent to the floor with a broken arm. Smoker hadn't been present at the moment, but he had seen the man's injury and it wasn't a small one. It almost scared him to know that the brat had caught this man single-handily.

As Smoker pressed the button on the coffee maker, he wondered what the hell was supposed to happen now. The brat would tell him about Crocodile's hide out, and well, he would probably secure his safety for this time so he could get away. But what would happen after that? Would the brat continue to pester him, or would it go back to the way it was just a month ago, with Smoker never seeing him again?

Shaking his head, as he realized how wrong he was. Smoker took two cups and poured coffee into them as he thought for himself: 'Things will never go back to normal again. Things will never be as they used to be.'

Keeping one cup in each hand, Smoker advanced into the living room and found Ace still sleeping on the sofa. His shirt had slipped up a bit, and his right hand was resting on his stomach. The clothing reviled a tanned stomach, and the few seconds of Smoker's eyes lingering on the skin, he was able to distinguish the bottom muscles of a six-pack. Quickly averting his gaze, Smoker turned his face away and kicked Ace softly in his stomach.

"Rise and shine, brat! Time to talk!" he said with a loud voice.

Ace rolled off of the couch with a small thump and a muttering sound. As he lay still on the floor, Smoker wondered if he had woken up at all.

"Oi, brat!" Half sitting up on the floor, with his hair in a complete mess and his eyes barely opened, Ace muttered something. Smoker could only pick up parts of it, but it was clear that it was not directed to him.

"Oi, Lu... don't call...brat, only Smoke...does...uhm... ", was the only part Smoker could pick up, and he damned the brat for not speaking clearly, since he was sure that the name of someone the brat knew was in the sentence. Ace yawned several times and rubbed his eyes, apparently not knowing where he was.

"Well, wake up. Here is some coffee." Smoker mumbled, not sure what to do.

As if something had stung him, Ace looked up at Smoker standing before him in wrinkled clothes and two cups of steaming hot coffee in his hands.

"Sm-smokey?" Ace stuttered. He looked around with quick glances to figure out where he was until the memories returned to him and calmed him down.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Smoker mumbled as he sat down on the sofa, and waited for Ace to place himself next to him before he gave him his cup. The black haired kid smelled the liquid, and smiled.

"Smells just like... just perfect." he said with a calmer voice than Smoker had ever heard him use. Somehow, it was very unfitting.

"Okay, to the point brat. It was not part of the deal that you stayed over, you got that?" Smoker made sure he sounded extra stern when he pronounced those last three words.

"So now", he continued, "now I want you to tell me, where the fuck Crocodile is hiding."

Ace ogled over the edge of the cup as he drank from Smoker's coffee.

"Croc's hiding place?" he asked innocently when he had swallowed down the hot liquid.

Smoker's forehead wrinkled in frustration, and his eyes grew much darker as he stared at Ace. Without having to say a word, Ace nodded.

"I'll tell you, sure... But on one condition." The last sentence was added after a second's thought.

Smoker still frowned as he growled: "That was not the deal, kid. This is why you never ought to trust criminals. They always turn their back on others."

"Always?" Ace said and sounded a tad offended. "I always turn my back on you, Smoker!?" His forehead was wrinkled in a surprised fashion and he placed the cup on the side table. "I have done nothing wrong!" he said with a harsh voice.

"Nothing wrong?" Smoker laughed dryly. "Nothing, like breaking into my, and several other's houses stealing everything that looks valuable?" Biting his lips, Smoker wondered if this really was the best thing to do, but he finally had the chance to talk back to the kid who controlled his life without knowing it.

"You know what I mean by that Smokey... I haven't done any lying or cheating! Not to you!" Ace had raised his voice a bit. Maybe the idea of sleeping at Smoker's place had been a really bad one after all. He didn't want this to head in the direction it was going.

"When you began this silly game, you said that after this, the both of us wouldn't have to deal with each other anymore. So, why are you pestering me all the time?"

Now looking more confused than angry, Ace looked at the worn out police officer.

"You can't possibly say that I have been pestering you _all_ the fucking time." he said with the beginning of a cocky smile, looking at the other man under the bangs that had fallen in front of his face.

Also placing his cup on the side table, Smoker silently rose up from his place in the sofa. Placing his hands over his eyes and face, the man sighed deeply.

He was right. Sure, he had taken space in Smoker's lonely paperwork life, but not _that_ much, not in person. Instead he had been everywhere in Smoker's thoughts and even in his dreams.

"Smokey?" Ace said with a slightly worried voice.

Shaking his head, Smoker turned around and faced Ace. Something in his eyes made Ace jump on the spot and shiver.

"Just tell me where he is hiding." Smoker said without putting his thoughts into words.

"No. I'll show you. My condition is that I get to come along." Ace said, with a steady voice. He had set his mind, and there was no way that Smoker could change that, he thought to himself as he continued to stare into Smoker's darker eyes.

"It's a police operation, brat! Don't be stupid." Smoker said, and tried to stop the conversation at that.

"He is hiding a few blocks away from where we first met. Either you search every building there, or I come along." Ace countered. As Smoker tightened his fist, his whole arm and upper body shook. Ace backed a hardly visible centimetre, still wearing the bruise on his cheek.

"And what the fuck would I tell the others? '_This is the criminal we have been chasing for months. Yeah, I had dinner with him last weekend, boss.'_" Smoker let out a dry laughter and crossed his arms.

"You know, Smokey", Ace said and leaned forward on the couch, grinning in his, by Smoker now very familiar, particularly notorious way. "I take that as a yes."

Not used to the feeling of limitations in the knee and elbow regions when he ran and jumped because of the tight trousers and the dress shirt, Ace took it slowly and savoured the day light. It wasn't too often he took the liberty of walking around on the rooftops of the industrial area in broad day light, but today was a special occasion. After stopping at a certain building and looking around for scouts, both from the rivals and the police, Ace carefully climbed down from the roof to the top level window via the drain pipe and the holes in the worn down building. The fabric in his pants sounded with a creaking noise, and he hoped to God they would survive this very risky adventure. He was also glad that he had decided to wear the combat boots even with this somewhat formal attire.

Standing, unsteady, on the window sill, Ace muttered as he looked at the lock belonging to the window he wanted to go through. It was a fairly simple one, but he still needed his basic tools, which he hadn't brought along to Smoker's home.

He put an ear next to the glass and listened for any sounds but heard none. If he did it carefully, he might get away with it.

His fingers searched the old mortar surrounding the stones, trying to find a loose one. Fingertips scratched, Ace almost gave up, but at last a small stone loosened when he scratched the mortar. It was painful for his delicate fingers, which were used to picking locks, but after another five minutes Ace held a brick about the size of a big fist in his hand.

He put his ear against the glass one more time just to make sure no one inside the building had advanced towards the area he was in.

Tossing the stone up and down in his hand as to feel its weight, Ace thought about the next step. Not too happy about the fate his shirt was to meet right now, he took it off and folded the stone into it. He needed to keep the sound down as much as possible when he smashed the window open, and it was worth a fancy dress shirt.

"_Tomorrow"_, Smoker had said. The raid was tomorrow and if he wanted to waist his life it was okay for him. Just as long as he didn't screw up, and as long as he kept in mind that justice always prevailed, and joining him in the raid just gave Smoker a chance to catch him.

"_A chance maybe"_, Ace had responded with a grin, "_but I hardly think that it will be a fair one."_

With swift and yet gentle movements with his wrist, Ace created a crack in the window. There was no way he could do this completely silent and still create a hole big enough for him to enter through, but if he made a hole so he could stick a hand inside and unlock it that way, he would be able to enter fairly unhurt.

The glass bits fell down on the floor one after the other. At each faint clinking noise, Ace clenched his teeth and hoped no one heard them. His fingers gripped the stone with a hard grip, and his fingers still hurt, but he needed what he knew was inside here.

Finally creating a hole big enough to stick his hand through, Ace took a deep breath and carefully stuck his fingers and hand into it, watching the sharp edges of broken glass. The lock was, just as he had thought, an old and simple invention which he could open without tools if he just could give it a twist from the right angle.

Reaching in for his, he hissed as he cut himself on the soft skin on his under arm.

It took several minutes and a few more small scratches on the arm, before he could turn the knob with one violent twist. As his arm followed the knob turning around his arm got caught in a sharp glass shard which dug much deeper into his flesh than the other small cuts, and he couldn't help but let out a yelp.

Biting his lip, he withdrew his hurt arm from the broken window and stepped into the dark room. Standing still and listening, Ace heard nothing, but he still felt worried. He pressed his palm against the deep cut, but blood kept flowing down his arm.

The shirt was dirty and a bit worn by the rock, but it still hurt somewhere in Ace's heart when he tore it apart in thin bits which he tied around his arm with a tight knot. Swallowing down saliva, he tried to ignore the pain. The arm pulsated along with his fast paced heart beats as he left the room, and tip-toed away along the hallway. He had no idea how he was supposed to navigate inside of the building, all he knew was that somewhere in this building was a stock of weapons, and he needed to get one or two of those.

He had thought about it for a time, and searched the houses he had been to, but he hadn't been able to find a fire arm anywhere. And now it seemed a very good idea to be on the safe side tomorrow and as he highly doubted that Smoker would ever lend him a weapon. He needed to get himself one.

When he left Smoker's place after a grumpy 'good bye, brat' and a door smashing in his face, Ace had recalled the man belonging to Crocodile's crew, who he had caught earlier that week, and what he had been doing when Ace surprised him.

He had been on his cell phone; talking to someone higher up about a load with different weapons that just had arrived to the address which Ace knew was their hideout.

He hadn't thought much about it after that, since he had only gone in for a surprise attack and taking the guy down. He had been standing alone in the alley, so there hadn't even been a chance for him to steal anything at that point.

Running down the dusty and worn down hallway, Ace was horrified to hear footsteps and voices closing in on him.

"You sure you heard something over here? It's like, top floor." a distinct male voice talked to at least one other person.

Closing his eyes as he stopped running, Ace sighed deeply. This was the one thing he liked to avoid: being caught in the hallway without any place to hide or run to. He looked around, but saw nothing but the walls that were made by the same red colour toned bricks as the outside walls. Behind his was nothing but the room he had entered through and a locked iron door. He had stopped at that door for a moment, but a quick glance at the rusty lock was enough for him to see that the door had not been opened for ages.

What he was looking for had to be further down the hallway, or on another of the four floors. Not giving up, Ace continued to move forward, now much more aware of where and how he put down his boots so they would make as little sound as possible.

The voices became clearer and clearer, and Ace started to sweat. Any second, they would turn around the corner that he now saw was ahead of him. What he also saw was the glowing sign portraying an arrow and a toilet. Looking to his left side, Ace, or more specifically, Ace's nose, found his saviour. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Ace entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaving only a few centimetres to look out through.

The air inside of the toilet was foul, and Ace's stomach made somersaults from breathing it. The stalls' door was closed, but it didn't help a bit. It couldn't possibly be only one toilet that caused this entire stench, and Ace shook his head at the dirt that covered the entire bathroom. The one lone mirror that hung on the wall was so dirty it looked more like a grey-scaled painting, and the floor was so dusty that his boots made footmarks when he stepped away from the door.

Looking out through the tiny opening in the door, he saw a big man dressed in large pants and an opened vest. His broad chest was covered with a Japanese tattoo. Ace swallowed as the man was at least twice his own size, and would have smashed him like bug if he would have made the stupid decision to fight them. The other man was not nearly as frightening as the muscular one. First of all, he was dressed entirely in pink and light blue. He was thin, but tall, yet Ace had trouble imagining him in a fight with someone older than ten without loosing. As they came closer, Ace twitched as he saw the bright red lipstick that covered the thin man's mouth. It was definitely not the picture he had of Croc's gang members.

"Why would anybody be up here anyway? The floor hasn't been in use since the last decade." the muscular man said just as they passed by Ace's stinking hide out. The black haired man looked with dismay on the old stalls. Last decade?

"But, Croc-sweetie said we needed to check~", the other one answered, not seeming bothered by the smell. He had a certain way of drawing out on the vocals, especially when he said the word 'sweetie'. Ace had to put his uninjured fist into his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. That man did so not belong here.

"What ever", the big man mumbled and the two of them continued walking down the hallway, soon turning around another corner.

Drawing a sight in relief, Ace realized too late he was still in the bathroom. He gagged on the air, and held his nose. He opened the door, and closed it quickly again before he started to breath heavily. Looking back at the way he had come from and thus the way the other two men had disappeared to, he knew he was still in trouble. They would find the broken window, the rest of his shirt and traces of his blood, and then they would quickly come back for him.

The warehouse was a labyrinth of locked doors and corners, but at least now he knew that he would have to search the lower floors. Running around the corner, not so concerned about making a ruckus anymore, he rammed right into a man standing guard outside of another iron door. Both men fell backwards, surprised by one and another. Ace was on his feet again first, ready to brawl, but he found himself looking into the pipe of a big hand gun.

"Who, who the hell are you?!" the man on the floor squeaked with a high pitched voice, obviously confused. Ace couldn't blame him. He had just run into him, no shirt and everything. He stood up with fist clenched and looked doubtfully at the figure lying on the dirty floor. He had about the same body build as the thin man he had seen before, and this one looked just as strange. Black figures that resembled nines or maybe deformed tears was tattoos into his both cheeks, and hanging loosely on the side of his head was a plastic crown of the type that can be found at the dress up section at toy stores. Ace's first impression of the man was that he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, so maybe he could...

"I'm Ace. I'm here for the guns. Now, get that fucking thing away from my face." he said and smiled like he talked to a kid.

"But we are on the fourth floor!" he said as he didn't understand what was going on. The gun was still pointed at him, but the hand that held it wasn't as focused now that the confusion set in, and that was enough for Ace to lean backwards and kick the heavy gun out of the man's hand. The metal invention fell to the floor with a heavy sound, and Ace was happy it hadn't hit his foot. Not quite following his own rush, his reaching towards the gun was delayed a half second before he dived down and grabbed the pistol by the butt, but was hit in the side by a strong force. He coughed, lying on the floor and looked up at the weird man holding a baseball bat in his hand.

"I don't trust those guns enough." he simply said and took a new grip around the bat's handle and aimed for Ace's unprotected head. Said man ducked away surprisingly fast, and the bat hit the floor sending a ringing noise down the hallway. The bat swinging down had forced Ace to drop the gun on the floor. Once again, he was in too deep with no weapon.

The other two men must have heard them, and would probably be here any second. Holding a hand on his hit side, Ace got up on his feet again, and breathed in deeply. The other man grinned and raised the bat over his head to swing down with full force once again. Ace saw what was happening, but didn't move until the man had begun his attack. Not dodging, but moving in towards the other man, turning his shoulders, Ace avoided the hit by a mere inch.

Now he was the one grinning, standing a few centimetres from the face. The other man's face grew surprisingly pale that lone second he had left before Ace head butted him. A dull sound of the bat hitting the floor and a muffled scream from the hurt man rang down the hallway. The man's crown fell on the floor, and he held both his hands on his bleeding nose and mouth. Ace backed off and crouched down and kicked the man in his ribs. The thin man smacked into the wall behind him and slid down to the floor.

Ace's forehead hurt a bit so he could imagine how the other man felt. If he had been unlucky, he could have lost a tooth or two.

Standing up straight again, he felt the pain in his ribs, and even worse; he heard the running footsteps of the two other men heading towards him. Ignoring the pain in his side, he leaped forward and caught the handle. Pulling it up and down several times, it didn't open. The iron door was firmly locked, and there was no way he had enough time to search the almost unconscious man for a key. Desperately looking around, Ace eyes caught hold of the big gun on the floor. He quickly picked it up and aimed with an unsteady hand on the big lock. Firing once, he hit a few centimetres from his goal. His shoulder hurt slightly from the forceful recoil, but he clenched his teeth and fired two more times. The third shot weakened the door enough for him to kick it open. Sweat flowing down his forehead, he ran down the stairs that were concealed behind the now ruined door. Just as he left the hallway, he heard the voices of his followers.

Running like a hunted animal, Ace took several steps in one single leap. He had put the gun in the waist of his pants, and he felt the cold, heavy metal against his skin. At least he had gotten what he was looking for, he thought, trying to cheer himself up a bit. He had been in worse situations, but not many. This time he had a gun, but he was unsure how many bullets were left in the magazine. Plus, if he went into battle with a professional gun slinger, he was sure he would be the one peppered with bullets. All he could do at this point was run, and run fast.

The stairwell was a narrow, spiral model, seemingly running through all four floors of the house. When he had passed the door on the third floor, they started firing at him. Ace's eyes went wide as he saw how the first bullet created a spark on the handle, hardly a hand's length from his back. It was like living in an action movie, but Ace was certainly not enjoying it at this level. Aiming for the first floor, he pushed himself faster past the second floor door. The other men kept on firing on him, but not as much as he had thought. They must be saving bullets for when he was in range.

Finally reaching the door on the first floor, where the spiral stair ended, he felt on the handle of the door. It swung open easily, and Ace drew a sigh of relief. The three second break wasn't the smartest thing he could do at this point, and he was reminded of this when another bullet flew past him.

Rushing through the door and quickly turning around a corner to avoid being a clear target, Ace scooted through the hallway. Sweat covered his face and his tanned upper body. Somehow he had grown accustomed to running in the tight jeans, but he still wished for his loose fitting cargo pants.

Looking over his shoulder, Ace saw one of the two men turning around the corner, a mere twenty meters from him. Panic filled him once again, and he tossed himself left towards another corner, just as the thin man shouted:

"You'll never get away, cutie!"

The sentence made Ace even more scared, mostly because of the "cutie" part, and he looked around and found a door that unlike others was made of wood. It looked weak, and it proved it was when Ace aimed a hard kick right above the handle and thus tearing it off of its hinges.

The room was dark, but Ace saw well enough to see that it wasn't a small cleaning cabin as he had first feared when he kicked down the door. The darkness might be to his advantage, he thought as he entered the room, still in a hurry. He looked at the broken door for half a second and regretted that he couldn't close it behind him. He took a few careful steps towards the centre of the room.

"I'm in some really deep shit right now", he mumbled for himself, as he strode through the room.

"Why, yes you are.", a deep voice was heard. The sound of a curtain rolling up and the rays of the sun accompanied the mysterious voice. Ace spun around, and looked into the eyes of a man everybody in Grand Line recognized.

"What?" was the only word Ace could manage to say. Before him sat a big man in an even bigger chair that was almost the size of a throne. He had black hair in a back slicked haircut, and a scar over the bridge of his nose and out over his cheeks. His left hand must have been amputated sometime in his life because it was replaced with a big, golden hook… the kind that old fashion pirates used to wear in fairytales.

The vice-mayor. A man everybody trusted.

The vice-mayor was sitting in front of him, grinning as he polished his hook with a damp cloth. Two other men, both armed stood beside him, and at this point, it was only a matter of seconds before his followers caught up to him. Five against one.

"Why hello there. I see you have found your way to the lion's den. I am Crocodile." the vice mayor said, and he grinned as he took a drag on his cigar.

* * *

_A/N: __Delayed but long, and hey, look! A cliffhanger!_

_I have promised to write another chapter of "Someone" before I finish "Wrong side", so please be patient~ _

_And, now, send me some love in a review. I'm missing them! _


	8. Let's get this over with

_**A/N:**__ You know what? It's now only three chapters left of this. Well, the epilogue too, but hey, I think I am going to miss this hunt soon. At least it leaves me with more time for "To be that someone that you're with"... Now, enjoy the cliffy's conclusion and this man eating monster on 7514 words!! *heading to bed*_

_Chapter 8 – __Let's get this over with_

The vice mayor was sitting in front of him, grinning at the boy that had no idea what was happening. Because, for once, Ace did not know what he was supposed to do. He wasn't following this development, and he felt uncomfortable.

"You? What are you doing here?" Ace growled, and looked around in panic.

"Doing business." the big man answered in a slow tone, and scratched his chin with his lone hand. "What are you doing here?"

Backing up a few steps, Ace looked over the situation. The information rushed into his mind, and in the middle of it all, the two people who had been chasing him down the stairs rushed into the room, one with a gun drawn.

The black haired teen stood alone in the centre of the room, surrounded by four much bigger, or at least taller men, and a woman, just as fearsome as the males. Looking around with quick glances towards every possible escape option, Ace looked somewhat like a frightened animal, trapped between hunters. Having found all exits blocked in one way or another, he stared at the big man sitting comfortably on his throne.

So that was Crocodile... The fucking vice-mayor was playing the part of the super villain in this play. Never would he have imagined that. A small part of him was already looking forward to the look on Smoker's face when he told him. If he was going to have the chance to tell him at all. He watched his personal space shrink as several of the men surrounding him started to move forward. He separated his feet a bit and felt his boots finding a good grip on the old, concrete floor. He raised his arms with the fist tightened in front of his naked torso, tensing all the muscles in his body. He knew they were one or two too many, but hell, he wasn't going to just lie down on the ground and give up without a fight. Now more than ever Ace wished he had pants he could move more freely in.

Crocodile looked amused, as if he was waiting for some kind of show. One of the men backed away slightly at the sight of the well trained boy, but the others sported a grin and circulated forward, looking to Crocodile for orders.

Ace spat on the ground before the tall man, and stared into his cold eyes.

"So, you're the fucking Croc?" he growled, and was awarded with a raised eyebrow from the vice-mayor.

"Watch your mouth, brat", the big man said with a soft, but fake smile, and he leaned a bit forward, resting his upper body on his elbows, placed on his knees.

Jerking his head toward him, Ace looked at the ignorant man with hateful eyes. The comment sounded so wrong coming from someone else, and especially from Crocodile.

"Don't call me brat. I don't want to hear that from someone like you!" he said between clenched teeth, muscles still tensed. Every fibre of his being wanted to spring forward and beat the man to a bloody pulp.

"Someone like me? I think you and me are very much the same, wanted criminals. Because you have to be that silly "Dawn Pyro.", the man said, his voice smooth, but poisonous. It seemed like the man was amused with Ace's little act of pride, as his shoulders vibrated softly under the huge fur coat. Faint chuckling erupted from his throat, and he fondled his chin with his hand.

Ace didn't know what hurt most, being marked an equal to this man, or being called 'silly'. Well, he could live with silly, but being held as an equal to Crocodile was just not his game. He had heard a lot about both the vice mayor and about Crocodile, but it had been very different subjects discussed. It was hard to believe that it was one and the same man.

"You are responsible for the school care, elderly people, and all that important stuff, and at the same time, you sell drugs and weapons? How the fuck does that add up?" Ace asked, glaring at the scarred man.

"Keywords: Money, and Power." were the words coming from the grinning mouth. "You can't imagine what kind of money you can make from cocaine. It's more popular than people like to believe. The weapon thing is really just a thing I do for fun." He waved his hand at Ace as if to show that it was really just peanuts for the crime boss.

"And it has never hurt anyone to have a little power. I guess I could have become the mayor if I wanted, but that would give me too little time to get business going. It's all contacts, talk, bribing and so on. I think you can't imagine how hard it is to rule such a big empire." The man's grin turned into a full blown laugh. He stuck his hand inside of his coat, and Ace flinched as he thought for one second that the man was going to pull a gun, but it was only a thick cigar. Placing it between his teeth when he stopped laughing, he placed his hand in his pocket once again, and this time he withdrew it along with a lighter. Flipping the Zippo up, a flame appeared in front of Crocodile's face, along with a trail of smoke as he took a first drag on the cigar and blew out.

"You, on the other hand", he said and pointed with the cigar at Ace. "It seems like you couldn't even get in _here_ without an injury." He laughed as he looked at the first-aid bandage the raven haired boy had designed from his red shirt.

Ace glared at him and he felt his cheeks start burning, both out of anger, and a little bit out of shame. He was no fool, but the comment was true. How he wished that his enemy would take him more seriously.

"Even though you really are just a petty thief, I have watched you for a while." Crocodile finally continued, tasting the rich flavour of the cigar. "You have made yourself a name, and all that, but what always made me curious was how you never got caught. You are obviously nothing but a mere boy, and you don't seem to be really that careful." As a proof of his statement, he added: "I even saw your picture in the paper once. Only your back, but still. Not so smart." he said, using a child's voice while he shook his head and pouted with his lips.

"Then I got a notice about this..." he made an artful pause and the corners of his mouth curled into a wide grin, and he looked at Ace for any change in the boy's emotions. It didn't come until the villain mentioned a name.

"This, Geoffrey Smoker, police officer of many years." Crocodile smiled at the look of pure surprise on the boy's face, even if it didn't last more than a second.

Ace bit his lip and tried to regain the neutral expression he had kept during all of the dreadful man's insults. How the hell did he know anything about Smoker? Had he been that careless these past weeks, or had he underestimated the man in front of him? The fact that he knew who Smoker was made the pit in his stomach feel tighter than before.

"Your face says it all, brat." he said with a laugh accompanied by another drag of the smelly cigar.

"So I figured that was why you never got caught. You're paying him a sweet sum of money, aren't you? The police men's' pay hasn't been that high lately." Crocodile said with a lean sneer.

"Leave him out of this shit. I ain't paying him anything!" Ace growled, still mad as a bull seeing red.

"Still, you work for him? I know what happened this week, and hell if it wasn't that Smoker who caught him. I know that there is a connection between you two." The man in the fur coat raised his hands to the level of his eyes and shook his head. A second later, before Ace had any chance to shout out a proper answer, Crocodile's face lit up, as if he had gotten a bright idea.

"Or, are you sleeping with him? Damn, that's probably it!" the big man laughed with his head bent backwards. He had to take the cigar in his hand again to prevent it from falling down his throat. When he saw the black haired man's reaction, his laugh erupted.

"Just a pretty sight you are. Will your boyfriend be proud of you when you come home and tell him how you defended him against the big, bad wolf?"

"Screw you." were the only words that made it through Ace's tight lips. His eyes were focused on the laughing man in his chair, and he completely forgot about any of the others around him. He didn't want any more of Crocodile's venomous talk, and he did certainly not hear anything more about Smoker, and particularly not anything about the two of them being lovers. Not him and Smoker being in... love.

The man on the chair continued laughing as Ace sprung forward, heaving himself towards his enemy. He withdrew both of his fists, but leaned his left side more forward, giving his main, right hand the chance of a more powerful hit. The muscles in his thighs relaxed and tensed as he leaped into the air, aiming a strong fist at Crocodile's chin. His arm hurt from the deep cut the window had given him, but in the midst of his rage, Ace couldn't have cared less. He was fed up with the man in front of him, and he looked forward to placing a hit on the man's annoying face.

Tightening his right bicep, Ace hurled himself downwards, reaching out for Crocodile. Too late, he saw the hand reaching out behind him and grabbing his shoulder. The hand halted him abruptly, and he felt his breath hitch at the sudden stop. Turning his head around, he saw a big face with lips far too big for any man. The grip on his shoulder hardened and he felt his speed rapidly slow, and for a fraction of a second, he hung still in the air before he was dragged down and backwards.

As he was slammed down on his back, he was reminded about the pain of being hit by a baseball bat in the ribs. His shoulder blades and most of his back scraped against the harsh concrete, and Ace yelped in pain and shut his eyes closed. He felt the burning sensation as parts of his back's skin was scratched away. The feeling of fresh, unprepared skin against the floor stung, and Ace bit down in the corner of his mouth not to cry out. Say what you want about broken ribs and knife wounds, skin scratches always hurt like hell.

Ace opened his eyes, only to find the big man hovering over him, his right hand drawn back ready to punch. It was the same man as he had seen in the hallway together with the long, thin and creepy man. The raven quickly took in his appearance once again; broad chest, some Chinese or Japanese tattoo on it, a shaved head with a scar on his forehead. He held a gun in his left hand, but it seemed like he liked to let his strength do the talking. The man was simply made out of a lot of muscles. A lot of muscles on their way of beating Ace to a bleeding mess.

He ignored the pain and rolled over to the side, and raised his knees so he would be able to place his soles back on the ground. Heaving himself up with great effort, he immediately crouched down again and sent one of his legs out to kick the knee of the big man before he could comprehend the movement.

Betting that his attacker was more muscles than reflexes, Ace put vast power in the kick. He waited to hear a crack from one of the bones in the leg, but the man proved to be sturdier than that. The only sound the boy heard was the metal sound of the man's gun falling to the floor. It felt strange to know how that sounded, he thought. At least, his kick put his opponent out of balance for the time being, thus making Ace's escape from the muscular man possible.

He straightened up his back again, and took several fast steps out of the man's reach. Turning around, he glared at Crocodile with a burning gaze. It felt as if the man was just out of reach, as he was sitting mere meters away, dark eyes fixed on the fight and a very unhealthy smile plastered onto his face. His facial expression was intrigued, but still so calm that Ace could easily say that the man was confident in the fact that Ace wouldn't be able to land a hit on him.

Hearing a grunt from the man behind him, Ace started to believe the same. Other than Crocodile, there were at least four other people to thrash, and he had no idea if there were more in the other rooms or on the other floors. There was the ridiculous man on the fourth floor, but he was no longer a threat. Unfortunately, he couldn't say that about the rest of the characters in the room.

Except the big man, who he felt was impossible to beat, there was a tall and thin woman, an average sized man with hair in an advanced hair knot, and the man Ace had unconsciously named "King of Creeps". His plastic look, made up of makeup combined with a fluffy pink sweater with big letters saying "Oh, Come my Way", as well as a pair of chinos in light baby blue still scared the raven haired boy. The silly scarf tied around his neck only made him more like the living definition of the word "flamboyant". Not able to sort the man out, Ace wondered what the hell he was doing in a place like this. Somehow, he seemed like he was the easiest one to beat.

The woman was dressed in only a pair of tight fitting leather pants and a matching bra with curious stripes in the same material connecting the two articles of clothing. It looked like a daring experiment from a half-crazy designer, but somehow, she still managed to look fairly fearsome. Ace guessed that the rapier on her smooth hip added up to that feeling.

The thin blade sang out when she drew it from its cover, ant the tip pointed at Ace's face. Swallowing, the raven haired man looked around again to find an exit from the ring of fighters, but found none. Behind him, the tattooed man was getting up again, and the king of creeps started to take long steps towards him, and it honestly looked like he had no knees. The woman took smaller steps; her high heels clicking with every decisive step. The third man, the one with the strange hairdo, started to advance, but he kept himself away from the others. Ace imagined that he was the weakest of them.

The only one not moving in to fight was Crocodile. He just sat there as if he was watching a movie or a theatre play, grinning and dragging on his cigar. The raven haired man swallowed nervously once more. There was no way out now, that was for sure. The only positive thing that Ace could think of was that no one had a gun, despite the fact that the rapier was still dangerous.

Blinking at his own stupidity, Ace's right hand traveled to his small back and his fingers grasped around the hilt of the big gun he had taken from the man with the baseball bat. His index finger slid in and embraced the trigger as his hand made a swift movement.

Crocodile stopped smiling when the gun was aimed at his forehead. The pistol was heavy and Ace's injured arm shook slightly at the weight, but his aim didn't waver.

All other motions stopped as Ace breathed heavily, holding the gun with both his hands. The others tried to read the younger one's intentions, but all of them decided to stay put. The muscular man who had been in possession of a gun before made a motion to pick it up off the floor, but a harsh 'stop' from the Ace halted the movement.

Ace bit his lower lip, also he unsure about what to do. He knew that he was going to have to say or do something soon; they couldn't just stand there forever. He had just suddenly gained the upper hand, but he had no idea how long it would last, as he was almost sure that some of these characters had to have another gun hidden somewhere.

He had to shoot, and he hated it. This was probably his only chance, but the knowledge that he aimed a killing machine at someone else's brains made his stomach crawl, even if it was someone like Crocodile. Giving a sad smirk, Ace took the feeling as a proof that he was not the same as the other man.

"You…" he started to address Crocodile, uncertain about how to go on. This was the moment where all of the manly-men in the old western movies said something epic, but reciting Clint Eastwood felt somehow out of place.

"You… Oh, just fuck you!", he said in lack of better words, and with that, he pulled the trigger, though, the moment before, he turned slightly, away from the lethal point on Crocodile's forehead, and locked the pistol's barrel on Crocodile's lower body, hoping that a shot would hurt, not kill.

The metal trigger felt slow and his index finger strained to push it back all the way. Biting down on his lower lip, Ace stared at his foe. He didn't smile, but yet, a little part, deep inside of him, felt good putting an end to Crocodile.

_Click._

Not wanting it to be true, Ace pulled the trigger once again, this time harder and faster. He didn't even want to think about what kind of shit he would be in if his fears were true.

_Click. Click._

At the third failed shot, everybody in the room had grasped the new situation, and everyone but the raven haired man in the middle of the room grinned menacingly. The room was left in silence for yet another empty sound from the unloaded gun. Ace cursed loudly, threw the gun to the floor, and made a swift movement towards the big window in hopes of reaching the glass before the others stop him.

Unfortunately, Ace's way was blocked off by a thin blade held out by the beautiful female. In the middle of a jump, Ace had no chance to brake in time. As if the rapier were the stick in a limbo game, the boy bent his back backwards and turned his cheek. Twitching his nose, he felt a stinging pain as the blade scratched his freckled face and created a thin wound a couple of centimeters under his right eye.

Slamming down on the floor once again, Ace sighed, but was swiftly up on his feet again. He drew a hand through his bangs to remove the strands of hair from his eyes. Touching his cheek with his palm, the blood from the new wound ran down, staining his hand red. Drying the blood of his already partially ruined pants, he sighted. The woman's mouth was stern, and her piercing eyes showed Ace her desire to pierce him with her weapon. This time it was just a matter of seconds before the fight would start again.

Looking around with quick, squirrel-like gazes, Ace started to smile, as he saw what just might give him a possible advantage. It was only a tiny chance, but hell, at this point things couldn't get much worse.

"Hey," he said, his smile lingering on his lips. "Let's start a commotion."

For the first time, Ace waited for his opponent to make the first move. The woman was much faster than the other two men he had fought so far, but Ace was at least able to keep up the same speed, avoiding the blade by throwing himself head over heels to the ground, doing a somersault despite the pain it caused his scratched back, and landing next to the thin rope that was holding up the blinds. Not wasting time to look back, he undid the knot holding the big piece of dark fabric away from the window and let the heavy cloth fall down with a monotonous thump. The room was now in the same state as when Ace had entered, pitch black.

Not wanting to remain in the same spot for to long, Ace took several steps to the side, trying to be as careful and quiet as he could with his heavy army boots. Relying on his hearing, he listened for the grunts, the high heels ticking, or anything that would give him a detailed view of where the others were.

Turning his head towards where he was sure he had heard an indication of the woman's position, he took a running start. Raising a fist, he completely ignored all kind of gentleman's code about not hitting females. He sent out several hard punches into the air before him, and he let out a happy breath when two of them hit a solid body. A feminine voice rang out in pain and the rapier fell down to the ground. Not having time for mercy, Ace launched a crouched knee which hit a soft part of the body, resulting in an 'ouuf' of lost breath from Ace's target. Still smiling, the raven haired boy nodded approvingly.

Thinking over the structure of the room, he quickly turned around on his heels, heading away from the block of muscles and in the direction of the smaller and also weak looking man. He heard that somebody farther away in the room, closer to the door was rummaging around, and probably searching for another light source. Biting his lip in stress and anxiousness, he continued forward.

He felt something graze against the naked skin of his arm, and he sent out a blow in that direction, but it seemed that the man had backed away the instant after he had realized that his attack had missed. Forgetting his own rule about being quiet, Ace growled and hurled himself forward, grabbing for anything but thin air.

At the same time as Ace got a hold of the fabric of one of the man's clothes, he heard the unwanted sound of a blade being drawn by someone in the room. Trying to place the weapon just by the quick sound, Ace swallowed. It was shorter than the rapier in his mind, but somehow the sound of the blade against the case sounded more raw, or scratchy. A picture of a hunting knife started to appear in the criminal's mind.

Ace's fingers started to search out the collar of the struggling man. The man's arms waved, and he tried to escape the other man, but his effort only made it easier for Ace to detect his vital points. The boy's movements were rough and hasted, and a line of thought recited itself in his mind; there might still be time.

Grabbing the man's collar with his left hand and drawing back his right to strike, Ace bit his teeth together and brought his knuckles down on the man's face. A painful cry escaped him, and Ace prepared for another, finishing hit.

The echo of an electric transformer starting again filled the room, together with cruel, white light from the many lamps on the ceiling. A quiet 'fuck' fled from Ace's lips as he swung down his fist and released the now unconscious man from his grip. One down, but many left.

The female was bleeding from her lips and the rapier lay tossed away. She was till coughing from Ace's kick, and was no longer a threat. What made Ace nervous was the long knife with a sharp looking, bent blade in the hands of the muscular man.

A slow, but loud applause made Ace look at Crocodile. The big man slammed his existing hand onto the lower arm on his left side, creating an ironic praise to the heavily breathing boy. The smile was back on to his face, and both the man and the boy knew that the raven haired boy had no other ace up his sleeve.

"Nice going, _brat_", Croc laughed, not showing any sign of concern for his defeated underlings. His cigar had found its way back to the corner of his mouth, and smoke welled up in front of his face.

"But this is as far as you go. You will never be any greater than this." Crocodile's voice was dry, contradicting his smile. His eyes were somehow empty as he looked down on the worn out Ace and gave a signal with his hand for the two other men to move forward. The big man smiled even worse than his boss, and Ace decided that he preferred him with a stern face.

Ace started to breathe even heavier and bit his lower lip. Trying to form another plan in the two seconds he had to his use, his brain stood completely still, if you didn't count the endless stream of the words 'shit, 'fuck' and 'hell no' which clouded his thoughts.

He had been focusing on the big man with the threatening knife so when the thinner of them sent out a foot in the speed of a comet, Ace had no chance to do anything more than utter yet another 'fuck'. The foot missed what he thought was its main goal of his vulnerable throat, but the knuckles of his toes smacked Ace's chest with a brutal force and sent him flying backwards. The boy yelped, but forced himself up onto his feet as quickly as he could.

Waving his right arm, he felt how the muscles in his body ached. The hit was sure to leave a big bruise. Spitting on the floor and sighing in relief that there was at least no blood in the saliva, Ace reorganized the henchmen in his mind. The king of creeps was way faster than himself, and he never again want to meet a kick with as much force behind it as there had been in that kick. Unfortunately, it seemed that just that was coming down the horizon for him.

Drying off the saliva that had gathered in the corner of his mouth, he stood up straight regardless of his pain, and looked straight into the eyes of his opponents, his now almost pitch-black eyes meeting theirs. Throwing his head slightly upwards, almost as a nod, he grinned with his bangs back down on his forehead. His last words before the fight started again, and he eventually lost consciousness, were spoken with a cocky voice, hiding all his worries:

"Let's just get this over with."

~ * ~

His head hurt, as though he had a really bad hang over, but this time the pain was not only limited to his skull; his entire body was in pain. Opening his eyes, he felt no difference in the light level. The room was dark as the bottom of the sea; not even the faint light source under a door could be seen.

He sat down, and his arms were twisted in a curious way behind his back. He tried to move them and failed as the rope burned into his wrist. Whoever tied him up had done so without reservations for the captive's pleasure. He was tightly secured to the wooden chair, hands pressed together behind the chair's back and his feet attached with thick ropes to the legs.

Slowly moving his fingers, he heard how the digits cracked from the unwanted motion. Clenching his teeth, he slowly turned his head with closed eyes at the stale pain. With every breath he took, he felt parts of his body ache, and even if he couldn't see them, he knew at least two places that bruises had surely bloomed up.

The sour smell of sweat and the metallic tang of blood created a strange cocktail in his nose as his senses started to return to him. The second smell reminded him of one of the most painful locations on his exaggeratedly beaten body. He had been lucky that the tattooed man with the knife had been slower than both his companion and Ace himself, but he had been able to pinpoint the raven haired teen once with his broad knife, grazing his top left side.

The cut had been right over his throbbing heart, but, ironically, thanks to a kick from the thinner man, he had been once again sent backwards. Thus the combo attack resulted in a shallow cut, but an unconscious Ace slamming into a wall. It seemed as if the cut had bled a good amount down his chest, since he felt the sticky liquid down on his chest and abs.

The second time he tried to move his fingers it was with easier, smoother movements. He attempted to bend them in a way that would release his aching wrists, but the movement only worsened his earlier recovery. The rope wasn't very thick, but was made to last. Ace's weakened effort of escape was nothing to it.

A curse slipped from the black haired boy as a layer of skin was scratched off from a twist of his hand. The foul word echoed more than he thought it would in the empty room, and a scraping sound of a chair drawn out on a stone floor was heard just afterwards. There had to be someone close, or in a room close to him. Beginning to panic, Ace shook both his hands and his feet, but the only movement it resulted in was a slight combination of jumping and swinging of the chair. Not wanting to fall down flat on his stomach, he stopped and started to stare at the floor instead. Steps were heard not ten meter away, but they were dulled by a door between them. When the door opened, he was hit in the face by a brutal light. He turned his head as best as he could and squinted his eyes, not able to place a shielding hand between the lamp and his unused eyes.

Ace was sure he had heard the voice filling the room, and in a second, images of a very fast and very dolled up thin man filled his inner sight. The King of Creeps was it, right?

"So, honey, you're awake at last?" the man said with a raspy voice. Ace's eyes were still not used to the light, but the silhouette he saw created by the light from the door supported his beliefs about whom he was talking to.

At last? How long had he been out cold? Except the wounds, his body was stiff and his back hurt from the forward-leaning position he was tied in. Ace must have been looking as puzzled as he felt, because the skinny man read him like an open book.

"You've been out for sixteen hours sweetheart. I'm surprised your back hasn't snapped yet, since it sure looks uncomfortable.", the man said, and raised a eye brown and one of the corners of his mouth, transforming his face into something rather nast looking., and ace shifted on his seat.

The boy opened his mouth to snap back, but the amount of hours he'd been out had made his throat go dry of surprise. It wasn't strange his body ached.

The thin man's hand hovered over the wall as he turned on the light switch. Once again, Ace groaned at the unwelcome beam from the lamp, and he wasn't all that happy that he could see how bad his body looked. Bruises had bloomed up all over his torso, and shallow scratches accompanied them. The only sight he was happy to see was that the knife wound had stopped bleeding, and the dry blood and his skin was making some sort of agreement to keep the cut closed up. The wound would certainly leave an impressive scar.

After he had turned the lamp on, the creepy man drew out a chair from the corner of the room and placed himself opposite to Ace, his eyes never leaving the wounded boy. The man placed a hand on the big pocket of his hooded sweater and gave Ace a questioning gaze.

"Is it okay if I smoke?"

Not knowing if the man was serious or not, Ace couldn't help but to laugh out loud at the question. As if he was in any position to decline a suggestion from him, or anybody else for that matter. He was a prisoner, hurt and tied up, not able to do _anything_.

"Would I be able to stop you?", he asked when the worst of his laughing fit was over. Tears had made it to the corners of his eyes, but he couldn't do anything about that either.

The lipstick covered mouth turned into a wide smile, showing the man's teeth. From the pocket of his hoodie he drew a pack of cigarettes and a long stick. Ace squinted to see what it was, but it wasn't until the thin man pressed his cigarette butt into one end he understood it was a cigarette holder, just like the old, classic movie stars used to have during all those black-and-white movies. Though, when the man lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply, Ace had to admit that he looked less like Audrey Hepburn and more like Cruella de Vil.

He watched as more and more of the cigarette disappeared into smoke as neither of them spoke a word. Ace had lost count of how many drags the other man had drawn from his cigarette, and watching the man doing nothing but that had a tiring effect on Ace, and his eye lids fluttered as he started to fall back into unconsciousness.

When the thin man finally spoke, Ace's eyes flew open as if something had stung him. It felt as if he had only closed his eyes for a second, but a new cigarette was puffing from the mouthpiece. Time seemed to be quite a curious thing in this room.

"I'm really curious, boy." the man asked, holding the cigarettes stick between his fingers while he spoke. "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone?" The man's forehead was furrowed, and he looked at Ace with an intense stare.

Ace shrugged his shoulders, but hissed at the pain that caused his wrists.

"You don't know why you risked your life, honey?" the man said, sounding amused. "Sure seems a tad strange to me... All these crazy kids nowadays..." he continued with a cloud of smoke. "At least, you seem to have handled the wounds okay. Thank your pretty body for that!"

A little of Ace's chin dropped, and the level of his discomfort rose a little. He had honestly no idea in what for a sort of category he was supposed to place the man in.

There was yet another pause before the man continued what seemed to be developing into a long monologe. Crossing his legs and leaning forward, Ace's nose was hit by a strong perfume smell, probably not meant for males. The man seemed to study him inside and out, and the boy gulped at the sudden closness, but quickly regained focus and grinned.

"I guess I did it for the fun then." he said, and his chest vibrated along with his soft chuckling. The grin became twisted at the stinging pain in his muscles.

"I only know one other person who would even think of doing such a reckless thing without a true purpose." the thin man said with a wondering voice, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

Snorting, Ace nodded in agreement. He on the other hand could think of a few more from his friend circle, but when someone mentioned the word 'reckless', a single face showed up in front of his inner sight. Avering his eyes from the other man, as if he was talking to himself, he muttered:

"Crazy kids huh? I bet my little brother is crazier than anybody else you can pull from your sleve. The kid is a freaking rubber ball of energy, and he goes on and on about some kind of epic adventure." Ace stated, his grin back on his face. Even if it was only a small drabble, it felt like a sweet victory, because you had to search land and sea for he didn't know how long before you even had a slight chance of finding someone who would outclass Luffy when it came down to the topic of craziness and being reckless.

"I think I have to prove you wrong, my dear", the man protested with a slightly high pitched voice. "My friend is the very face of liveliness, and I swear to you, you never know what he is up to. He has some kind of great dream he is going to reach, and I would bet all my mother's makeup on the fact that he would kick your brother's ass to achieve it."

Chuckling again, Ace shook his head and stabbed the man with his eyes.

"Save for me and grandpa, no one has defeated my kid brother in a fair fight, so tell your friend good luck with that. Luffy won't go down so easy." he explained with a smug smile which grew larger at the utterly surprised look the man's face turned into.

"Luffy?" the man stuttered.

Shit, had he said too much? Would they go after Luffy now? Ace bit his lip, and looked up at the other man with a slight touch of fear in his gaze.

"Luffy D. Monkey?" the man continued, and Ace's brow furrowed. Something was not right. How the hell did the man know Luffy's full name?

Reaching into his back pocket, the man pulled up a thick, but still small notebook and began turning the pages with rapid, smooth fingers. Leaning forward, Ace tried to see over the edge of the book and check what the hell was in it, but the ropes forced him to a halt only a decimeter out from the back of the chair.

"Oii", he called out, trying to get the other one's attention. "What the fuck are you doing? Why do you know about Luffy? Answer me!" For one who liked to have control of his surroundings, Ace groaned as the other man ignored him and continued flipping pages.

"Here!" was the man's sudden outburst, and he shoved the notebook up in Ace's face. Bending his neck backwards, the teen tried to see what the man was so eager to show him, and gasped when he saw the photo glued onto the page. He didn't recognize the setting, but sure as hell that it was Luffy, the straw hat swiftly placed on his head and that trademark grin on his face. Now even more confused, Ace felt his jaw hanging slack, and pulled it up with a snap of his teeth. The man smiled, and showed all of his unexpectedly white teeth.

"I'd like to see your little brother kick the shit out of Strawhat."

"Screw you", Ace muttered, obviously taken back by the fact that they had been arguing about the same person. This new situation did raise a few new questions as well.

"And why the hell do you have a picture of my brother in your back pocket? How do you know him?" the boy grunted. He got no answer, but a crushing hug from the man who tossed himself at the tied up Ace. Arms snuck up around his back and forced him into a tight embrace, creating an awkward atmosphere. The hug lingered longer than the black haired man preferred it to, sweat starting to build up back on his neck.

"H-hey, get off me!" Ace shot out. "And answer my questions!", both his strong will to move the man away from him, and his responsibility as a big brother mixed in the sentences.

Ace felt how the man's hands started to travel down his back, and he started to panic. Eyes wide, he started to squirm, desperate to get out of the man's hold, and the final touch was added along with the yelp Ace let out as the ropes cut into his writs' flesh once again.

"Easy, sweetheart", the man complained, as his own hands stopped at Ace's , pressing something small and cold into his palms until the raven got the point as he started to breath more normally, and clenched his fist around the small, square object. Running his thumb over it he felt the uneven surface of metal, and a crack on the top of it. Slowly opening it, he realized what it was.

The man had pulled away from him, stepping towards the door. Cocking his head upwards, looking at the other man's back, Ace was unsure what to say. The man twisted his head around and helped him fill the empty air:

"You never really know where you find the oddest friends, but you always know you can trust your friends, whatever the situation." As a finish to the short speech, his mouth turned into a full blown smile and made a quite silly looking thumbs up before he continued towards the door and closed it shut after he had turned the light switch off again, leaving Ace once again in complete darkness, alone with a lighter, his single hope to escape.

* * *

_Yes, another _long _chapter, (over 7000 fucking words/12 pages!) and damn, that turned out to be quite much fighting. Sorry? It was kind of fun to write, even if it felt a tad strange to write after chapter 574. Someone else who cried? _

_And, ah. Bentham's sweater's print. "Oh, Come My Way" is a play on "Okama Way". Gah, I feel like I have written the worst Mr. 2 ever, too damn out of character. *cry*_

_Oh and yes, I'm so pathetic that I fanart my own works, so here it is:_

Slowsunrise (dot) livejournal (dot) com/2906 (dot) html

_Just replace the dots with actual . and you will be able to see Acey. XD_

_I spent a week in Austria for skiing, so no internet for eight days. A little painful, but of course it turned out to be quite fun too. I used my sister as a bouncer, and she told me to write about her here as thanks: "Tack till min syster som gillade min Bögporr och gav upp sin schnitzelfetish för att diskutera den med mig." ("Thanks go to my sister because she liked my gay porn and gave up her Wiener Schnitzel-fetish to discuss it with me"._

_(__SlowSunrise's Swedish-English Dictionary: __**Bögporr:**__ Gay porn)) _

_Also, we were sitting in a lift on our way up the slope, discussing another fiction I write, and I told her what I had in store. Her respond was: "What the fuck, Sara? Are they gonna have sex on a table in a bar? Are you gonna write a sex scene with two males?!" (So sweet and *cough* innocent.)_

_We also talked about yaoi in common, hickeys, make out sessions between guys and a lot of other pervy stuff. _

_You see, we talked Swedish which we thought was perfectly safe amongst all the Germans. Then, a woman in her forties, sitting next to us, asks in Swedish where we are from. My sister isn't catching up that quick, so she says: "Sweden", and then this woman simply says: "Yes, I can hear that". Two seconds later, both of us know what that means, and all the remaining way, we were very, very quiet. Believe me, it was hard not to laugh._

_I love you all, and you are allowed to hit me hard in the face with a frying pan för being so fucking late. I'm sorry, and I'll try to behave. D:_


End file.
